


New Beginnings

by Antonier



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Lore Compliant, Plot focused, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antonier/pseuds/Antonier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how two women, one an upholder of legality and one a vigilante. Through a joined secret, a working relationship slowly develops into something more, until impossible choices have to be made to carve out a place in this changing world. Love has no place on a battlefield, however unconventional it may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rumors

It was late in the office, and Caitlyn’s fingers hurt from pressing down on the pen. Her handwriting, normally neat and refined, spilled out onto the paper, the dot on her i’s nearly boring holes through the new parchment. Her police force had just arrested a fledgling criminal, barely even 13, for breaking and entering. Her heart hurt just thinking about it. His family was starving, and he had probably just been trying to feed them. He sat in the holding cells in her office, waiting for something to be done about him.

She signed the document, then stood up and stretched. She worked the cramp out of her hand, and prepared herself for the conversation she was about to have.

The cells were above the offices, a change Caitlyn herself had implemented. It served two purposes. One, if a prisoner ever tried to escape, they would have to go through a room of armed officers. Two, it kept the place from feeling like a dungeon. The cells were nice, actually. They were furnished, with wooden floors and a clean bed, as well as a mostly private area with plumbing to relive yourself. The windows, while glass, were completely bulletproof, tinted from the outside for good measure. While it would not hold up under siege from a competent mage or terrorist attack, it was a definite improvement over the former state of the facility.

The stairs were clean, and the halls freshly painted. It had more of the look of a schoolhouse than a jail. The door to the convict’s cell was locked, but one glance at the tall woman was enough to confirm her identity, and the guard had the door open.

The boy was sitting at his desk. Although she had been informed of his age, his appearance still shocked her. He was small for 13, and painfully skinny. His appearance was ragged, his hair unkempt, and his clothes had clearly been repaired far too many times. He looked up at her, and the defiance came out of his eyes. She was a recognizable figure.

She pulled up a chair across from him, and the guard closed the door behind her.

“Your name is Thomas, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“What is your family name?”

He hesitated for a second, “Don’t have a family.”

“Yes, you do. And they are probably freaking out right now, wondering where you are. I would offer to call them, but I doubt they have a phone.”

This was clearly not the response he had been expecting.

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’re not a criminal. You're no even a slumsnipe. You’re a desperate little kid.”

Something came over his face as she said those words.

“I don’t want to have to arrest you, but you did commit a crime. However, since nothing was actually stolen, I am willing to let you off with only two weeks.”

Relief flashed over his face, replaced quickly by panic. Caitlyn saw the change, and began before he could speak out.

“Your family will not go hungry while you are gone. My associates in the social services department will be setting up a series of soup kitchens around the lower city.”

This clearly meant nothing to Thomas.

“It means everyone in the city will have access to free food.”

Utter disbelief. He scrutinized her face, trying to tell if she was pulling a prank on him.

“I just have one request for you. That’s all it is. A request. Can you answer a question for me?”

He nodded at her blankly.

“What happened to the women who saved your life?”

\------------------------------------------------

 

It was an hour later that she left his cell, with the information she needed to begin her plan. She called a conference meeting the next day, and waited until the other officials showed up. On the screen in the front of the room, a face emerged.

It was clearly that of a women, but her otherwise feminine features were hard, the angles of her jaw and cheekbone standing out against her pale skin. Her hair was bright pink, long and shaven on one side, the rest pulled into a loose ponytail. Her nose was adorned with a metal stud, tattoos of gears sprawled down her neck, and a pair of workman's goggles sat perched upon her head. Her eyes were striking, an unreal shade of violet, and below her left sat another tattoo in stiff, dark letters. VI.

The next shot showed the same women, but full length this time, and the shock from the audience was clear. She was tall, almost absurdly so, with narrow hips and a slim waist. Like her face, her features might have been feminine on anyone else, but the way she stood banished any thought of delicacy, even if her attire didn't make it so blatantly obvious. She wore a suit composed entirely of metal, completely asymmetrical, covered in buckles and straps, screws and bolts. The corner of a pink skirt peaked out from her torso-piece. The real catch, however, was the giant metal gauntlets attached to her hands. They were incredibly detailed, mirroring human hands in a way not even Viktor had achieved with Blitzcrank. Every finger had two joints, and the thumb was opposable. Dials on the back showed pressure readings, and the knuckles were adorned with massive red screws.

"As you may know," Caitlyn began, "I have been tracking down a criminal who has been making a name for themselves. This is her. She goes by the name VI. The boy we apprehended today was able to provide substance to what was previously rumors." The portrait of the woman disappeared, replaced with a newspaper article dated back over a decade. "Years ago, tales of a Zaunite mining operation went wrong reached our ears. Her gang, the Factorywood Fiends, tried to steal a payment, but wound up causing a cave-in. The miners became trapped, but were rescued by a girl who re-rigged the giant metal fists of an overloading golem she then used to punch through the rubble. The miners got out, but when they tried to thank her, she ran."

"Then, a year later, we began to hear rumors about a new criminal in our city. They said it was a young girl, who took on any challenge with ease, who would punch through walls to achieve her goals. A few years after I was accepted into the police force, I started investigating the rumors, and found that some of our prisoners had stories about a pink haired girl. Apparently, she only robbed or hurt other criminals."

"Thomas' father had been injured in a factory accident, and was put out of work. His mother fell ill, and he was left with no source of income to buy food. What little money they had only held out a few weeks, and his family began to starve to death. Desperate to save them, Thomas went out looking for work at the same Zaunite factory as his father. He was too young, and they turned him down. On the way home, a gang attempted to rob him. He had nothing to give them. They were about to kill him, when a force crashed into them. The two thugs guarding the alleyway were blasted aside, and the one holding the gun was lifted into the air, before being smashed into the pavement. This man was admitted to the hospital with a punctured lung, a concussion severe enough to render him comatose, eleven broken ribs, 5 of which were completely pulverized, a broken arm, a fractured clavicle, and crushed tendons in both legs. He was barely even recognizable as a human being. Luckily for him, there was a gifted healer nearby. Thomas' rescuer then turned around and grinned at him. She escorted him home back to his parents, and gave them the money she had pilfered of his would-be murderers. He described her as a women with pink hair and giant metal fists. I sent a task force to investigate his claims, and, sure enough, in the alley there was a crater. The forensics team found matching bloodstains, and estimates that the man hit the pavement with over five tons of force. The robber will have to be outfitted with synthetic parts to survive the rest of his life in prison."

"This women has been evading us for years, and has undeniably committed several crimes. The information given to me by Thomas has allowed me to formulate a plan to bring her in. I am going to go undercover, and will stage a crime scene. Presumably, she will try to save me. I will use this time to observe her, and, if I deem her sound, offer her a job as my partner."

Silence greats this proclamation. Then, "Are you out of your mind? This girl is a criminal, and you want to offer her a job?"

Despite her legendary status as a sheriff, and the work she had done for the city, the older members of the station still had problems adjusting to her new ideas and methods.

"Yes. I will begin executing this plan tomorrow. I already have a team assembled, and have cleared this with the mayor and his council. Be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be appreciated. Let me know all of my errors.


	2. Miss Introductions

Caitlyn stares at the girl in the mirror, awed with the power of cosmetics. Her raven hair was now blonde, her blue eyes brown. She was dressed in civillian clothing that was far too big for her and worse for ware. She looked the part, now she just had to pretend.

Escorted in the back of a police car, she started her drive back to the station. As they were passing Thomas' neighborhood, she pulled her body backwards through her arms, swapping the handcuffs to in front of her, yanks open the door and ran. Cuffs burdoning her, she took off down the pavement, years of training pulling through. She had told her officers to try their hardest to catch her. They wouldn't succeed.  
  
The car screeched in the distance, far behind her, the drivers trying desperately to avoid hitting a stop sign. Caitlyn bolts down the narrow avenue as the doors were practically ripped off their hinges, and the officers clambered out, still unsteady on their feet, still adjusting to the dark night. She takes the turn at full speed, breaking line of sight for just a moment. She could not outrun them with her handcuffs. She had to act now. Hands together, she leaps onto a first-floor window ledge and grabs the second, swinging her legs up to hook into the grates, then, upside down, curling her core towards her. Hands grabbed the grate, and she flips upright, before repeating the motion to get to the third floor. When the officers charged past the corner five seconds after her, Caitlyn was nowhere to be seen. It is rare that someone thinks of looking up.

Looking down from the rooftop, she took in the slums of Piltover. The difference between the upper and lower city was startling. Out past the river, she could see twisting steel towers, windows full of light, cars driving down the street, windmills spinning in the green parks. Zeppelins dotted the sky, and the city square was was bustling with people buying fresh goods at the weekly market. Here, all she could see was black and grey. The tar was cracked, buildings were missing windows. The sky was cloudy, as if purposely blocking her from the stars. It was not beautiful here. She felt her resolve strengthen. She would clean this place up.

The cops were still making noise, still going through the protocol of finding an escaped prisoner. It would wear off by morning. The sirens were blaring, and now there was color, red and blue and white. It went on for an hour, before her officers "gave up", and went to report to the station. Caitlyn climbed down the building, dropping from ledge to ledge.

The view had also served to help her get her bearings. She was two blocks away from the estimated location of Vi's hideout. Now all she had to do was go looking for trouble.

There was a bar on the way, and bars meant drunk people, and drunk people were loose-lipped and foggy headed. It was, all in all, a very bad place for a women to be. Caitlyn tried to skirt past the entrance, but it was to no avail. A group of men, clearly drunk, saw her.

"Hey beautiful. How about a drink?"

The man was older than Caitlyn, but not by much. He was bulky, and cut an intimating figure.

"I'm fine, thank you."

She spoke quickly, her voice distorted in an attempt to hide her accent

"What? You think your better than us?"

No answer, Caitlyn just kept walking

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

One of them lashes out, attempting to grab her arm. Their reaction time, however, left much to be desired, and she steps neatly out of the way. Unfortunately, they were not so drunk that they missed the handcuffs.

"Hey, what's that? On your arms?"

This was bad. She couldn't fight them, not without drawing attention to herself and giving the whole gig up. She was now surrounded. She would definitely be paying this neighborhood a visit later.

"Got something to hide? We're great at keeping secrets."

Just her luck.

"Don't feel like talking? Me neither".

He lunges again, and again she dodged. The action causes him to trip, and he falls face first into the ground. When he stands up, all traces of cheerfulness were gone.

"You b-"

That was as far as he got. A newcomer has joins the group. They stand in the shadows around the corner, but, even leaning, they were a head taller than Caitlyn, and more than twice her breadth.

"Is something wrong here?"

The voice was clear, obviously belonging to a women, but low and threatening.

The thug whipped around, a smirk on his misshaped face.

And then something curious happened. It froze on his face, his eyes wide with raw terror. The group stumbles over each other backing away, and one of them manages to get out,

"N-n-no-no we were just leaving."

"You do that. I didn't throw you out to have you make trouble on the streets."

The edge in her voice was unmistakable. She took a step forward, straitening up, and her face was cast in light. That did it. They broke ranks and ran.

The women before her was, with no doubt, the women Caitlyn was searching for. Her tattoo was obvious, and the pink hair was a dead give away. She is wearing dark clothes, and ripped jeans. What the pictures never hinted at, however, was her size. She was easily over six and a half feet tallThis was too good an opportunity to waste.

"To who do I owe the honor of my daring rescue?"

"Daring? Hardly." She spits. "Those thin-skinned cowards ran off with barely a warning."

Caitlyn does not miss how she dodged her question.

"Thank you anyway."

"Just doing my job. Having drunks like them around is bad for business."

"Business? You work at that place?"

She grins at Caitlyn's obvious displeasure, smiling like they are in on a private joke.

"Don't exactly have the figure of a bar maid do I?"

She posses at that, sticking out a hip and batting her lashes. 

"Nah, I'm a bouncer. If it was up to me, those idiots would have been banned a long time ago. Can't hold their liquor. Always starting fights. Never amounts to anything serious, they know the consequences. Say, what is on your hands?"

Caitlyn pauses, but she needs this women to trust her. She sticks out her wrists.

"Handcuffs? What did you do, jaywalk?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got nothing but time. My shifts over. How bout a deal? I get those handcuffs off you, you tell me the story over a drink."

"As I recall, you chased off some men for asking the same question."

She wrinkles her nose.

"As I said, bad for business."

The offer was perfect. A chance to get closer to her target, without raising any suspicion.

"I have two conditions. One, you're buying. Two, you tell me your name."

She laughs at that, and the sound is full and deep.

"You drive a hard bargain."

She pulls out a little metal rod and a small hammer.

"Alright, Cupcake, give me your hands."

"Cupcake?"

Caitlyn is indignant. Her face earns her another laugh from the larger women.

"Cus' you're so cute I could eat you. Nom. The name's Vi." She points at her tattoo. "Now give me your hands."

Her ears red, she does as Vi suggests. Vi places the lock pick above the key hole, and proceeds to hit it with the hammer. Well. So much for subtlety. The lock snaps off, and she is free.

"Thank you, Vi."

"No problem."

Vi holds open the door, and gestures for Caitlyn to get in.  
\----------------------------------------------------------

The bar is surprisingly clean, with a lively atmosphere. It is well lit, and the candles are burning a pleasant smell. A band is playing live music, some sort of folky, country song. and a couple dances to it. To Caitlyn, it seems more like a tavern than a bar.

Everyone knows Vi. The people at the table toast at her, and she smiles back. The couple waves at her, and, much to her embarrassment, wink at Caitlyn. The barmaid, a pretty girl with ample curves teases Vi.

"Who's this lovely lady? Haven't seen her before."

She grins as she says it, and Caitlyn realizes it's part of a routine. Vi's own grin widens.

"Jealous, Leigh? Don't worry. No one can replace you." She blows the girl a kiss, and Leigh shakes her head, laughing quietly. "The usual for me, and tea for this 'lovely lady'."

Leigh gets them their respective drinks, Vi's is clearly alcoholic, some sort of beer. Caitlyn's drink comes with a tea cup, sugar, milk and biscuits. Leigh giggles as she places it down. Caitlyn can't blame her. It looks so out of place, a dainty little tea cup among all the noise and excitement. Perhaps it's a metaphor for herself.

The band finished their song, and makes an announcement.

"Attentions ladies, gentlemen and yordles of all ages! This next song we have is dedicated to Vi, who has saved our behinds more times than we can count! Without her, we'd still be stuck in Zaun."

There is a cheer from the bar crowd, and Vi salutes the band. They break into a song, much more punk than the ones before.

"She's such a misfit, always ready to brawl  
It's like her business, roughing up your friends as the law  
There is no difference if you believe you're strong  
She's a bulldozer making sure you're flat on the ground

She's like a boomerang who never gives up  
She flies in circles till she hits you and you're biting the dust  
So just remember this when she's chasing you down  
Face first you'll be thrown onto the Proving Grounds  
She'll knock you out!

Have you ever really wanted to be a total rebel flipping tables on the enemy?  
Did you ever try to further improve how fast you punch people through the roof?  
Was there ever any certain time when you thought brute force and style combined?  
I guess now's time to shine cause finally she's here!  
Here comes Vi!

And as a matter of fact, the best bet one has is to quickly react  
to the first attack that's aiming for the bones  
cause she'll never pull back and just risk it

And as a matter of fact, the best bet one has is to quickly react  
to the first attack that's aiming for the bones  
cause she'll never pull back and just risk it

Have you ever really wanted to be a total rebel flipping tables on the enemy?  
Did you ever try to further improve how fast you punch people through the roof?  
Was there ever any certain time when you thought brute force and style combined?  
I guess now's time to shine cause finally she's here!  
Here comes Vi!"

Somewhere along the way, Vi has started dancing, running her hands through her hair, looking like this is only natural. The crowd joins in, and Caitlyn can only stare. These people, who have not lived easy lives, are dancing and singing together. There are people here of all genders, races, and yes, even some yordles, joining together like family. For a moment, Caitlyn feels a pang of jealousy. Even at the station, she is always removed from the fun. She is the sheriff. Her job is her life, friends come second. And here she sits, and a bar table by herself, away from the festivities. Vi sees her, and, without a moments hesitation, walks over, and extends an arm.

"Care to dance, my lady?"

Her face is all tease.

"You did save my life. I suppose I can oblige one dance."

And onto the floor they go, spinning and dancing, and Caitlyn finds, that for the first time in years, she is enjoying herself. She and Vi spin and twirl, until they are caked in sweat. Vi's expression is so openly happy, so thrilled, that Caitlyn can only mirror the expression. She has forgotten her mission, lost in the moment and momentum of the crowd. Song after song plays, until the band bows, and the bar cheers for their performance. They promise to be back next Friday. Caitlyn and Vi return to their table, and Vi is obviously intoxicated.

"So, cupcake... You promised me a story?"

She spreads her hands, gesturing for Caitlyn to speak.

"Indeed I did. I only ask that you agree to hear me out in full before commenting."

"Another strange request, but I think I can manage."

"My name is Caitlyn. I am a Sheriff of Piltover. I have been searching for you for years. I want to offer you a job."

Stunned silence. Then laughter. "Course you are. And I'm Jayce."

"No really. Look." Caitlyn reaches into her coat and pulls out her badge. It is unmistakable.

"You have got to be kidding me. You want me to join the Wardens?"

"No. I want you to become my partner. You would take orders only from me."

Vi spits out her drink.

"Whaaaaaaat? Why?"

"We've heard rumors about you. You only harm other criminals, and you do whatever it takes to get the job done. I'm offering you a chance to do what you do, with more resources and without running from the police."

"Hell yeah! When do I start?"

Caitlyn had not been expecting such an enthusiastic response.

"Monday, 8:00. Report to my office then."

Vi's face falls.

"8:00? But that's... early."

"So it is. And one more thing. Please cut the nickname."

"Whatever you say, cupcake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The song "Here Comes Vi" is her loading screen music. Did not come up with that. As always I am open to suggestions.


	3. Safety Net

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been re-written to fit the new lore.

The Marshall house, as far as Caitlyn's concerned, is beautiful. It isn't nearly as large nor luxurious as the Clan Houses, but that doesn't diminish its charm in the slightest. Although still technically in the upper city, it is much closer to the gates than most of its kind, and allowed Caitlyn for easy access to the woods outside. Some of her fondest memories were in those woods. They were where she learned to shoot, to track, to hunt, to kill. All that was left was to apply those skills to humans, a feat that was surprisingly easy. Humans left far more tracks than a bird or deer, no matter how hard they tried.

The inside is the opposite of the woods, but she loves it anyway. Inventions clog up every available shelf-space, pieces of glass and metal woven together in patterns she cannot hope to understand. Her family specializes in weapons, and it shows. Racks of guns, traps, nets, scopes and bullets framed for all visitors to see. The air hums with power, but Caitlyn finds it comforting. It's home to her, and always will be.

Her parents greet her at the door, embracing her. 

"Caitlyn, dear, it's been too long."

"I just saw you last month!"

"A month without seeing my only child. Is visiting your poor old mum such a chore?"

She's smiling though, and Caitlyn feels the corners of her own lips turn upwards.

"Which reminds me. When am I going to have some grandchildren? I won't live forever. I'd like to attend my daughter's wedding before I die."

Caitlyn rolls her eyes, suddenly feeling very much like a teenager.

"Mum, I'm only twenty-four. And you're hardly fifty yourself. Your not going anywhere anytime soon. Anyway, I have my career to worry about."

"Married to the job are you? I wish you would take a break sometimes. It's not good for your health, all this fighting."

Caitlyn looks to her father to help, but he only wears an amused smile.

"You're smothering her, dear. Let her breathe."

Her mother pulls back, looking her over quickly. She tuts upon seeing the assortment of injuries she had managed to collect during her "great escape", and frowns at where the handcuffs chaffed at her wrists.

"What harebrained scheme have you been up to this time? What could you have possibly done to get yourself arrested?"

"It's a long story, one perhaps better told over dinner."

Her mother takes the hint, and stands aside.

"Of course. Do come in, we finished cooking just before you arrived."

Finally able to move around again, she follows her very enthusiastic mother to the dining room. The table, while normally able to seat many, was set for only the three of them. The food already out, her mother gives her a pointed look.

"So, care to tell me the story of your arrest?"

"It wasn't a real arrest. I was undercover. Remember the vigilante I told you about? I went to find her."

Her father is the one that speaks now.

"So you mean to go through with your plan? Does she know?"

"I told her the truth. That she would be a valuable asset to the force."

"It's cruel to use someone's dreams like that."

"She wants to make those who prey on the weak pay. I'm giving her the opportunity."

Her father shakes his head.

"Caitlyn, does she know what she's getting into? Does she know who she's making pay? Because, if you are letting her walk into this blindly, I can't condone this. We're safe now, you can rest."

"You're safe, yes, but what about the next person? This city is corrupt, and you know it. She can help me fix it. I'm sure she'd agree if I told her, you read her file. But you know what happens to those who know."

"What about you? If you pursue this path, you will end up dead. Give it a rest."

"I can't! People are dying, and nobody else is going to do anything. I'm not going to stop until I make it right, and if it means I have to tear this city down, brick by brick, I will fix this. Nothing is going to stop me."

"You have to tell her. Otherwise, I will."

"We don't even know anything for certain yet. You could end her life over a false alarm."

"So could you! What happens when someone figures out what we're doing? They'll put the pieces together and kill her, and she won't be prepared."

"Fine. I'll tell her. At the end of the month. I need to see if she's trustworthy first."

"You had better keep your word."

"I always do."

Her mother is biting her lip throughout the exchange. To anyone else, the gesture might look nervous, but Caitlyn knows better. Her mother, the genius inventor, is trying to out-think a system that's existed for centuries. She's staring off into space when suddenly, her head snaps back into place.

"Invite her to the gala."

"Hmm? All my officers are invited."

"No. Invite her as your personal partner. Get her into the public eye. Introduce her as a hero of the people, working behind the scenes to help them. Now, she's been given the opportunity to take her rightful place as warden. An ordinary officer, they can make disappear, and no one will remember. A symbol, they can't off her without upsetting the peace. You have to make them love her, a Zaunite vigilante who will do anything to save them."

"From what I've seen of her, I should have no problem with that. She's very easy going and... charming. In a convoluted, no-nonsense way."

"I'll schedule an interview. You just make sure she shows up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know it is much shorter, but I had to set up the beginnings of the plot.  
> As always, reviews are welcomed.


	4. Questions left Unasked

It was Monday. The morning after the troublesome dinner, and three days since she had met Vi. She was sitting in her office, staring at the clock. 7:45. Vi had fifteen minutes. She would be here.

7:50. Ten minutes. She would be here.

7:55. The paperwork was neglected on her desk. Her pen was blotting ink all over her hands. She would be here.

7:58. Caitlyn was frozen. Every muscle in her body paralyzed. She hadn't blinked for the past three minutes. She would be here.

7:59. She had stopped breathing. She was holding her breath. Vi had to be outside right now. All she had to do was look out the window. Look out the window. She is right outside. She is ringing the buzzer right now. She has to be. Caitlyn stayed put. She would be here.

8:00. Late was normal. She wasn't even late yet. Perhaps something had come up. Perhaps she had gotten lost. Perhaps she had overslept. She would be here.

Her phone rang, so sudden that Caitlyn jumped. She answered it.

"This is Sheriff Marshall speaking. Identify yourself please."

"Hey, cupcake. It's me! Bet yah didn't think I would show up, huh?

She would have recognized that voice if she was deaf. Relief flooded through her.

"Vi, I cannot express how grateful I am to hear your voice."

"Whoah, whoah, back it up a bit. Confessing already? I didn't know we were that close yet."

Her smirk was audible. Caitlyn decided that comment dictated no response.

"It's 8:01, and you don't appear to be in my office. I believe that makes you late.

"Well, about that... I'm at the receptionist desk right now but... He won't let me in."

"What? I told him I was expecting someone. "

"I'm not exactly what he had in mind."

"I'll be right down."

She hung up the phone, and took the elevator down to the front desk. Anyone was allowed inside the station to file a report, but you needed clearance to see the Sheriff. Clearance she was sure she had given.

The doors opened on a scene she would never forget. Vi was surrounded by officers, pointing their guns at her, while she had the receptionist- no small man by any standards- lifted in the air by one giant metal fist. His legs were dangling off the ground, and she looked furious.

"What is going on here?"

Everyone froze upon hearing her voice. Everyone but Vi, that is. She turned around and smiled, still holding the man.

"Oh, hey Sheriff! There you are."

Her voice was strained, and she could hear the rage behind it. Vi was hiding something.

"Vi, please, put down that poor man. Officers, put down your guns. Vi is the guest I was expecting."

Vi shrugged and dropped the receptionist. He hit the ground with a thump. The officers looked less sure.

"But, Ma'am-"

"No buts. I have no idea how this situation started, but I expect a full report. Vi, come with me."

The policemen lowered they weapons, and Vi comes to Caitlyn. Caitlyn steps back into the elevator, and Vi follows her. She looks around, confused.

"Cait, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why are we in a box?"

"Don't tell me. You've never been in an elevator before?"

"An ele-what-what?

"Elevator. We use bigger ones for travel between Piltover and Zaun."

The doors close, and every muscle in Vi's body goes rigid. She turns around, fury and panic on her face.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you! You just wanted to trap me in here. Now what, huh?"

She seizes Caitlyn in much the same manner as the receptionist.

"Tell the people outside to open this door, or your pretty little face won't be so pretty anymore.

"Vi! Let me go! It's not a trap! It's an elevator!"

"What the hell is an elevator?"

Her breathing is frantic and hysterical.

"The doors will open soon, I promise. And when they do, we will be in a new place. You may then step outside of your own discretion. Trust me. Please."

Vi isn't thinking straight, her pupils are dilated, and she is shaking. She puts Caitlyn down, and curls into a ball, her metal hands over her head. Caitlyn presses the button that leads to the floor of her office. In a few moments, the door opens. Caitlyn offers her hand to Vi. The larger woman looks up, still quivering, and takes it in her metal fists. Caitlyn attempts to pull herself up, but nearly takes herself over from the unexpected weight.

"Vi, can you stand? The door is open. I can't lift you."

Vi looks up and barrels out the door, sucking in air, before freezing. She looks around, clearly in shock.

"You step into the elevator, and it a series of pulleys lifts it to the floor you want to go. The doors open, and you are there."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea you were claustrophobic. We can take the stairs next time."

"Yeah."

There is a pause in conversation until they reach Caitlyn's office. Then,

"Do you want to tell me what the receptionist did to deserve your anger?"

Vi's laugh is dry.

"He tried to kill me."

Caitlyn's head whips around.

"What?"

"I asked him where your office was, and he said I had to have permission to see you. I told him I did, and he asked for proof. I didn't have any, so I used the phone to call you. A list of numbers were hanging on the wall behind him. Yours was on it. After I hung up, he was pointing his gun at me and radioing for backup."

"Do you have any idea why?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised you don't."

"Why would I?"

"Look at me."

So Caitlyn did. Her eyes traveled across the other women's armored body, from her pink hair, finely featured face, to the sweep of her slender neck, to the intricate dance of tattoos, to her broad back, to her slim chest, to her narrow waste, to her spiked legs, to her heeled feet. She saw nothing that would make someone want to commit murder.

"You don't understand, huh? It's okay. It's better you don't."

"Vi-"

"No, don't ask. What you're doing here? It's giving me a chance. This is my future. My past is over now. The part of me that belonged to Zaun is dead. I buried her."

Caitlyn nodded. Starting over was something she could understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all you people who have read this so far!  
> I have been doing extensive research into the nature of Vi's history, and I found something that confirms a popular theory. You will see it come into play soon, although I hinted at it in this chapter. I am open to comments. So, you know, comment maybe?
> 
> Thank you for 100 hits!


	5. Sugar

Vi is fidgeting. She is always fidgeting. Her feet tap against the ground, her hands run over each other, he head twists this way and that, looking for something Caitlyn can't see. Nothing about that women was contained or orderly. She was rough, with a carefree attitude that didn't care about consequences. Ask her to open a jar, and she'd smash it in her bare hands. Any complaining would be answered in a smirk. "I opened the jar", she would say. Anything else was just a casualty, a mean to and end. She had no social graces, and no sense of modesty. Every morning she would work out in the gym in underclothes, giving any onlooker a clear view of her toned body.

Woe was anyone who was partnered with her in training drills. She was strong, insanely, in humanly strong. She could lift well over a thousand pounds without breaking sweat. Caitlyn had witnessed this feat in the training room; when Vi had been unable to find any weights to meet her requirements, she benched the vending machine. She could throw someone across the room room with two of her normal fingers, there was no point to sparring with her. Nothing about her fighting style was graceful or elegant. It was crushing brute force brought to the extreme. Every movement could break, every shift was a thinly veiled threat. Her very presence was huge, an aura of raw confidence you could not ignore.

When an instructor had asked her to disarm a bomb, she had crushed it in her gauntlets. It was rigged to send out a shockwave if the pupil failed. Vi should have been blown back, but she only looked at the remains of the mini hexspolsive in disappointment. The instructor refused to see her after that.

This might have been more of a common reaction if she wasn't so likable. She had a humor about her, an almost childlike innocence, and became so excited over small things. Like the first time she had ever had a cupcake.

It had been after her first day of work, and Caitlyn wanted to do something nice for her after the day of formalities. She had invited Vi over to her flat.

"Wow cupcake, nice place you got here."

Caitlyn's flat felt lived in. It had Caitlyn's signature tidiness about it, but lacked her office's sterile feel. You could see what she had been up to. And her walls were littered with photographs. Pictures of her mother and father's wedding, pictures of Caitlyn when she was a child on her father's shoulders, pictures of her mother winning an award for her inventions, pictures of her father tinkering with metal. Pictures of Caitlyn herself, when she just joined the force, and again, when she ascended into Sheriff.

Show quoted text  
And more recent pictures, of her with a grin on her face, wearing a party dress, at a restaurant with a blonde haired boy. The kid was blushing furiously, his arm slung around a similarly compositioned girl. Jayce was there too, his signature smug grin perpetually present. It seemed to be some kind of celebration, and the boy was the star. The picture was captivating, the energy palatable through the thin paper.

Caitlyn saw Vi staring and explained.

"Ezreal's birthday party last year. He turned sixteen. That girl next to him is Luxanna Crownguard. She's from Demacia."

"Luxanna Crownguard? That's a fancy name."

"Would you prefer the Lady of Luminosity? And of course it's a fancy name. She comes from a High Noble house. She's, politically, first in line for the hand of Prince Jarvin Lightshield."

Vi gaped at the girl in the picture.

"She's a princess?"

"Not exactly. But she could be, if she wanted to."

"Well why doesn't she want to?"

Caitlyn gestured to the picture.

"Can't you tell?"

Luxanna's eyes were trained upon Ezreal. While it could have caused a scandal, she seemed perfectly content to sit under his arm, looking like there was nothing more natural.

"She'd give up a kingdom to be with him? Who is this kid?"

"An explorer and cartographer. He makes maps."

Vi could only stare in awe at this girl.

Caitlyn's eyes steeled over.

“Would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Give up a crown for love.”

“Hell, cupcake, I've never had a crown, and I sure ain't ever been in love.”

Caitlyn's head whipped around.

“You've never been in love?”

“Never. Flings? Sure. One-night stands? Definitely. But love? I figure that's something else. What about you?”

“I'm dedicated to the job. Any relationships I've had with people have been purely professional. Even friendship is a rarity, it's why these people mean so much to me”

"But other officers, even other Sheriffs are married! I mean, yah, you're much younger than all of them, but I don't see why you couldn't fall in love."

"I have a mission. I don't think a spouse would appreciate coming second to that. Anyway, most of the married Sheriffs were promised to a Clan as a way of cementing their grip on the city."

“So the clans have their own personal Sherrifs? Isn't that illegal.”

“You cannot deny a marriage contract based on position, so no.”

“That's insane! And corrupt! Wait, you're not going to do that, are you?”

“It's not that simple. I would never agree to become a pawn of a Clan house. I value the law too highly to ever do such a thing. But if marriage to a Call family would help me complete my goal, yes, i would do it. My own enjoyment in such an arrangement matters very little compared to what I could accomplish.”

Vi was silent for a moment.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That's nonsense. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your happiness. There are other ways to reach your 'goal' without selling yourself to the highest bidder.”

Caitlyn laughed humorlessly.

“Seriously, Cait, I used to think that with status came freedom.”

“There are somethings money can't buy.

More silence, then,

“Believe me, Vi, I know. I have already made plans to ensure that that will never come to pass. It is a hypothetical scenario, nothing more. Don't worry about me.”

They turned away from the photo.

“You are going to have to take your gauntlets off if you want to enter my kitchen.”

Vi glared at her.

“Why would I want to enter your kitchen?”

“Because we are going to bake cupcakes.”

“Uhhh... I don't bake?”

“That is the beauty of life. We always try new things.”

And so into the kitchen they went, Caitlyn teaching Vi how to mix the batter and prepare the frosting. The latter was the more difficult of the tasks, as Vi would lick the bowl clean every time her back was turned.

“How do you even eat that much frosting? Aren't you going to get sick?

Vi's lips were pink. Her nose was pink. The ends of her hair were stained a lighter pink. Caitlyn moved the bowl out of her reach, no easy task considering the size of the other women.

Finally, the cakes were done and it was decorating time.

Caitlyn's were neat swirls, topped with a red cherry. Vi's were works of art. Very messy works of art. Some had chocolate hearts, some gears, one had a crude depiction of Caitlyn's hat.

Vi picked this one up, and offered it to Caitlyn.

"Cait, I have a confession to make."

Her voice was dead serious.

"I have never had a cupcake."

"What?"

"Honest! I could never afford them as a kid, and I used the funds from the bar on necessities and spare parts."

"Well you are in for a treat"

Caitlyn took the cupcake from Vi, and handed her one of her own. They toasted, and ate.

Caitlyn are here in efficient bites, careful to avoid getting it over her face. Vi had no such qualms. She stuffed the entire pastry into her mouth.

The effect was immediate. Her eyes widened, and she practically gulped it down. Her hands were on another before she even finished swallowing.

"So good... Is this what you taste like?"

"Why did you call me cupcake of you had never had one before?"

Vi's face sprouted a grin.

"Because you're all sugar and curves."

Caitlyn smacked her lightly on the arm, trying her best to look proper. Vi only grinned harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I plan on continuing this for a while, so I will take time to build things up.  
> Please comment. I'm desperate.


	6. An Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 has been changed only slightly. The article now shows Vi as an emerging hero, instead of a lab-rat. Yay.

Caitlyn woke up at 7:00, and completed her morning ritual of a shower, breakfast and reading the paper by 7:30. The first two activities had progressed as normal, but the third was interesting.

It had been a week since Vi had started her job as her Enforcer, and it seems the paper had finally figured out something to say about it. A week was a long time to cover something like this. Caitlyn suspected her father's influence.

On the first page was a picture of Vi, standing tall with her signature grin on her face. Her gauntlets were hanging from her side; it was almost possible to miss them. The title read:

Famous Vigilante Recruited for the Force

Her mother had done a splendid job. The article mentioned Vi's past as a gang member, but used it as a way to show that she knows how criminal minds work. A good portion of it is dedicated to her daring rescue of the workers, and how she cut ties with the Factorywood Fiends after their display of heartlessness. It went on to talk about how she had been the one responsible for the mysterious drop in crime rate around the Zaunite border, and how she now wanted to put her skills to work through legal means. It was ended with a quote from Vi herself. "I was finally offered the opportunity to do something to help those who need it. Why would i refuse?"

Caitlyn had no idea when Vi had met with this reporter, but the line had been perfect. There is only one thing left to do; get Vi cleared for active duty. The last step was a physical examination, and Caitlyn had pulled some favors to make sure they could get to the bottom of Vi's extreme strength.

They met up at Caitlyn's office. Vi was unusually quiet. There was only one conclusion to make.

"You read this morning's paper?"

Vi looked down quickly.

"I thought so. How come? You normally aren't too concerned with what happens in the outside world."

No response.

"Vi, talk to me".

Still nothing."

"Vi, everything the article said is true. Yes, you had a rough start, but I don't care bout that. What matters is that now you're doing the right thing."

That did it.

"You don't care? So you're just gonna pretend nothing's wrong with me? You're going to pretend I'm not a thug? You're going to pretend I don't have blood on my hands. Caitlyn, the article didn't tell the whole truth, so don't pretend you didn't know that. I'm a freak, Caitlyn. A mutant freak who could rip you in half with two fingers. I'm not even human, I don't deserve your sympathy. What's your game at? What do you want with me?"

It was Caitlyn's turn to be quiet.

"A pretty girl, who just happens to be a Sheriff of this entire city, spends years tracking me down to my job in a bar. She then offers me my dream job, on dream terms, with no strings attached. Now, an article is released in the news painting me as some kind of hero. That sounds too good to be true. So cut all this nonsense, cut the kind words, and tell me what you want from me."

Caitlyn's voice was steady as she replied.

"It's been a week. Why ask now?"

"Because I thought you'd tip your hand by now. Because I hoped I could start over without my past coming back to smack me. Because I thought this was for real."

"This is a difficult question for me to ask right now, but do you trust me?"

"Do I what? Did you just hear a word I said?"

"Yes. And I'm asking you, do you trust me?"

"I don't know! I want to, but how can I?"

"I don't know how much this will mean to you, but I promise that this is for real. I can't promise I don't have an angle, but I can promise it's the same one as you. I want to clean up the lower city, and so do you. You can leave anytime you want, but just give this place a chance. You've got your physical examination today, and then you are cleared for fieldwork. If we delay anymore, we will be late. Are you coming?"

Vi's anger had disappeared.

"Yeah."

"Good."

They walked to the door, and Caitlyn prepared to open the handle, but was interrupted by a hand on her arm.

"Caitlyn, I have no idea what you will find."

"Neither do I. But I have full faith in the person conducting the examination."

That satisfied her. She removed her hand from Caitlyn's arm, and allowed herself to be escorted out the door.

 

\---------------------------------------

"Uh... Cupcake? That doesn't look like a doctor's office."

The building she was was referring to was colossal. It was modern to the extreme, smooth glass coating the entire exterior. Hundreds of people and yordles rushed in and out of the entrance. The two women joined them.

"This is the foremost science academy in all of Runeterra. Correct me if I am mistaken, but I do not believe a physician would be able to figure out what you are. I have an associate who works here. He is probably the smartest person in all of this world and the next, and has already set up his lab for use."

Seeing the anger flash across her partner's face, she interrupted the women's next thought.

"Yes, lab. But don't worry, it won't be anything intrusive. Just standard procedure that you would undergo at a normal office. He just needs his software to run simulations."

"Standard procedure?"

Her voice was strained.

"For the most part. Blood samples, height and weight, a physical examination. In your case, however, he might need something else."

Caitlyn stopps walking, and turned around. Her eyes were soft.

"Vi, I promise he won't hurt you. I will be right besides you the whole time."

Vi looked down at the women. Her eyes were blank.

"I have no idea what you went through as a child, but I know that it was difficult. I know you have things you don't want to think about. I know we haven't known each other long. I know I can't ask this of you. But please, trust me."

Caitlyn's face was intense. Vi could only nod.

 

\-----------------------------

Caitlyn knocks at the door three times. After a moment, it swings open. Vi stared ahead in confusion. There is no one there

"Hello, professor."

Vi looks at Caitlyn. Caitlyn is looking straight down.

"Hello Sheriff! Right on time as always. And you must be Vi! I am very pleased to meet you. Come in and sit on that table over there, I'm all set up. Miss Marshall, I have to thank you for this opportunity. We have always been behind in organic recomposition, a very sore point, but you can hardly expect is to stoop to the same levels as Zaun, can you? Vi- Do you have a last name?- you are a volunteer? Wonderful. Sit on the table, we will start with a questionnaire. Oh, what are these? Hextech fists? Fascinating! They seen to come from a mining rig, a twelve year old model if I'm correct. What sort of modifications have you made? The original weighed three tons. If you have found a way to increase the strength while decreasing the weight-"

The "professor" was a grand total of two feet tall, bright orange, and sported a massive mustache. He was rambling on incessantly, seemingly oblivious to the blank stare of his patient. To say he talked a mile a minute was an understatement. His ideas smashed together, all tied and connected. He hardly seemed to breathe as he interrupted himself, his machine gun words seeming irelevant to each other.

This may have gone on until they died of old age, but Caitlyn stops him

"Vi, this is Professor Cecil Heimerdinger. Heimerdinger, this is Vi. She doesn't have a last name, but she is here of her own free will. Vi, he wants you to sit on the table over there, and fill out his form."

"But of course! Where are my manners?"

He attempts to shake Vi's hand, a task made difficult by the height difference. Vi then walks over to the table.

"Sheriff, it is helpful if you would fill out this paper too. It would help of we could use you as a base Homo Sapien. All answers would be kept confidential, unless you wish for otherwise."

"Vi has full disclosure to all of my answers."

The professor's eyebrows rose.

"Of course, of course. And you, Miss Vi?"

"Same here. We came to figure out what I am. It would be kinda pointless if only I got the answers."

"Right you are."

Both women pick up their questionnaire.

First name: Caitlyn

First name: Vi

Last name: Marshall

Last name: Don't got one

Gender: Female

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Age: 23

Birthplace: Piltover

Birthplace: Zaun

Ethnicity: White

Ethnicity: White

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Sexuality: Lesbian (Seriously, man? Why is this a question)

He then had them step over to a scale.

Height: 5'9

Height: 6'7

Weight: 120 pounds

Weight: 140 pounds

He took their blood pressure, and listened to their hearts.

Blood pressure: 117/74

Blood Pressure: 113/67

Beats per Minute: 50

Beats per Minute: 4

"Well there is something interesting. 4 beats per minute? You should be comatose. But the other levels seem probable, despite you being abnormally light. If it weren't for that, you might seem to be perfectly normal. What tipped you off, Caitlyn?"

"She threw one of my officers across the room with two fingers."

Vi snorts.

"The heartbeat would imply abnormal levels of physical capabilities. How much can you lift?"

"I don't know. I've never found something I couldn't. My gauntlets weigh 8,000 pounds, if that helps."

Heimerdinger's jaw drops.

"But that is nigh impossible! If Zaun had that kind of technology- No, we are still standing. The project that created you must have been separate from the government."

He turns to Vi.

"A human being in the peak state of fitness can lift 460 odd pounds. You can lift 1,600 times that! Muscle has a density of 1.06 kilos per liter. Yours would have a density of 1696 kilos per liter. Obviously, that isn't the case. So what are you made of? Do you mind giving a tissue sample?"

Vi looks at Caitlyn again. Caitlyn grabs her metal hand and squeezes it. Vi shakes her head.

"Lie down."

She does.

"I am going to have to sedate you."

"No!"

Vi shouts her response. He looks up at her in confusion.

"Surely you understand. Any reflex of yours might destroy the lab."

"Whatever you do, I won't even flinch. I promise."

"You can't promise that! It's natural human reaction-"

"She isn't human. If she says she won't flinch, she won't."

"I am going to take an x-ray, then cut into your flash and remove a piece of muscle. Calling it painful would be far from the truth. It would be agonizing."

"It won't hurt me. Nothing you do could hurt me."

"But-"

"I don't feel pain like you people do. I will be fine."

"Explain."

"You're the scientist. You tell me."

"You're giving me permission to monitor your brain activity?"

He looked like a kid at Snowdown.

"Monitor my brain what? You can read my mind?"

"No. Just the chemical reactions of the organ. I need you to take off your gloves."

She places them in the corner, and sits back down on the table.

"Now follow me."

The three exit the room, and walked down the hall to a set of lead doors. The yordle hit a button by his hand to open them.

There was a curious machine inside, a chamber hooked up to a monitor. A hospital bed lay just outside it. Vi lies down on it.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Vi?"

"Hell no. But I have to."

With that, the bed retreated into the chamber, and Vi's world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vi's gauntlets are confirmed to weigh 8,000 pounds, so I did the math to figure out what that would make her compared to normal people.  
> Thank you Lils! You are the first comment I have ever received on anything! I promise I will keep it up, even when school begins.
> 
> The rest of you people, Lils is your role model. Comment just like they have.
> 
> In all seriousness, thank you anyone who has read this, you don't have to comment, but if you do, even if you tell me how much you hate it, I would be eternally grateful.
> 
> Thank you for 200 hits!


	7. Darkness

Vi's world is made of darkness. It is not the comforting kind of darkness. She can feel it creep into her edges, burrowing into the corners of her sanity and ripping the fibers of her being. Her hands are not restrained. Even without her gauntlets, she can break out of this cage. Something moves, and she feels some sort of mesh close around her throat. It's not enough to strangle her, but it is nowhere near comfortable. She feels the panic set in.

"Vi, my MEG is picking up heightened levels of activity in the amygdala. You need to restore your system to normal or else we cannot proceed with the experiment."

She grits her teeth, struggling to keep herself under control. A tremor runs through her limbs.

"You need to calm down, or I will sedate you and begin the surgery."

"No. Don't sedate me. I just need a moment."

Her voice is strained, coming through the intercom as hardly louder than a whisper. All she can think about is the walls, and how close they are, and how much closer they are getting, and why are the walls getting closer? She can't breathe, there is no air, and it is so hot, so hot and her brain is boiling and her core is freezing, and she fights her reflexes, locking her joints and tightening her muscles but it's no good, it's no good there is still no air and-

The next voice Vi hears is soft.

"Vi, we are right here. You are safe. Deep breathes, in through your mouth and out through your nose. Breathe with me."

Breathe? Vi sucked in air, a slow, shaky breathe. She exhales, a puff through her nose.

"Good! Now again, Vi. Focus on my voice. I'm right here."

Another breathe.

"Relax. It's okay. Nobody is going to hurt you. Just release your hold on your body, be limp. Start at your feet. Relax the muscles in your feet. Give up your hold on them."

Give up her hold on her body? Vi's bare toes are curled tightly together. She focuses on unfurling them.

"Don't fight your reflexes. Don't fight your body. Accept your fear. You're scared Vi. And it's okay."

Vi stops trying to unfurl her toes. She stops fighting her instincts for control.

"Take a breathe, and on the exhale relax your feet. Imagine your fear floating out down your body and through your feet."

Vi mentally reaches into her chest. She finds her panic on the inhale, and dispersed it through the exhale. Her toes loosen.

"Good! Now your legs. Let the fear go."

Little by little, she gives up her hold on her fear. She lets it leave her, from her legs, to her gut, to her chest. Out her fingers, down her arms, down the crown of her head.

"Adrenaline levels are back to normal. Prepare for the procedure."

"You are going to be the one to preform the surgery?"

Caitlyn's voice sounded strained. The professor's reply was anything but.

"Of course! Of course! I do know what I'm doing, I'm a doctor. Not to mention no one else can be trusted, if news of an altered life form this successful got out we would have a riot. Wait a moment, is she altered or designed? Vi, were you born like this? Wait, scratch that. Your strength would cause complications during pregnancy. So a test tube child? Part of a program perhaps. Are there others like you?"

"I have no idea what the hell you just said, gramps."

Vi grinned. She could picture Caitlyn's horrified expression.

"Gramps? Gramps! I will have you know that I am holding a knife in my hand, one I will be using to cut into your arm and remove a sample of your tissue. Gramps! I worked hard all my life, and this is what I get. You youngsters have no notion of respect."

"Does your kind even have hands? I thought you had paws or something."

He spluttered, for once at a loss for words. Trying to regain his composure, he cried in exasperation,

"Opposable thumbs! Now be quiet!"

To Vi's shock, she hears a very unladylike snort. Heimerdinger uses this as a cue to turn his verbal assault on Caitlyn.

"And you! I expected better of you! I look after you all my life, and you abandon me for this heathen! Next time you need a favor, you better find someone else!"

Caitlyn's voice was professional as she tried to recover the pint-sized professor's pride.

"Dr. Heimerdinger, she is trapped in a dark area, waiting for an inventor to cut her open and figure out what is abnormal about her. Teasing you is a coping mechanism. She means no harm, and is willing to apologize. Right?"

Vi could feel her partner's death glare through the walls of the radiation proof containment chamber.

"Right. I'm sorry Mister Professor Sir."

Her voice is anything but as she butchers his title. He doesn't seem to notice.

"As you right should be. Gramps! The nerve! Now hold still, I'm going to cut you with my knife."

"Will do".

"Are you right or left handed?"

"I'm ambidextrous. I punch equally hard with both fists."

"What arm do you hold a pen in?"

"My left."

"Great. Now brace yourself, I am going to cut a piece of the muscle in your bicep out. I will give you a draught afterwords, and it will repair all damage. I just need to register your response to pain and analyze the sample. Don't tense! Relax. It'll hurt more otherwise. Or will it? I have no idea how you work. Time to find out."

With that, he brought the blade across her arm. His moves are practised as he begins the surgery. It only takes a few moments. The sample he removes looks much like any other person's muscle. He puts the cube into a sterilized container, pops that into a machine, and fetches the potion. He pushes a button, and the restraints around Vi release, allowing her to sit up. She looks down at her arm.

"Oh."

On Vi's right bicep, as promised, there is a square hole in her skin. It's tiny, only about a couple of millimeters wide in each dimension, but is bleeding heavily.

He presses a cloth to her arm.

"That is to be expected. You do bleed normally, right?"

"As far as I can tell, yeah. And no, you can't check."

She takes the potion from him and drinks it down. It is only a moment before she starts squirming.

"It itches!"

"Of course it does, your skin is healing at an accelerated rate."

Before Vi's eyes, the skin knits itself back together, and various bruises and scrapes disappear from her skin. The entire ordeal doesn't even leave a scar.

Heimerdinger is looking at the readings of his MEG.

"You felt no pain, correct?"

"I felt the knife cutting my skin. It was uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt."

"Your brain released an anesthetic. It clogged your pain receptors. You do still have pain receptors, probably so you avoid accidentally killing yourself."

The machine beeps, and he scurries off to check it.

"Your tissue sample has been analyzed. It has some interesting results."

"You think everything's interesting."

He flicks his ears in response.

"It's definitely organic, but the structure is most similar to carbon fiber. It's much stronger, and considerably lighter."

He gestures to a computer screen, showing a cross section of muscle. The desk it sits on was designed for a yordle, and Vi and Caitlyn kneel to look at it.

"Vi, you are 1,600 times stronger than a human. You should be able to lift 736,000 pounds. I need to know how you came to be this way."

"I don't remember."

"Are there others like you?"

"I don't know."

Her face is a mask of calm, but thoughts swirl and crash through her mind. Of the body in the snow.

"Let her be, professor. This is a lot to process."

"Process? She already knew about her strength. We are the ones just finding out. Could you imagine an army of people like her? Do you know what that would mean for Piltover? War, Sheriff, it means war. We are not a city built for battle. We don't have the technology to face a legion like her. The only thing keeping us safe is our alliance with Demacia. Ionia is being torn apart from Noxus' "occupation" and they have some of the most gifted warriors the world has ever seen. Blades don't matter against bombs and poison gas. Even Noxus can't fight a war on three fronts and Zaun doesn't have the numbers to invade us. But they wouldn't need numbers if they had a hundred of her. Soldiers capable of destroying a building with a flick of their fingers. We are so lucky Vi is on our side, but the next one might not be. So I need to know, are there others?"

"Proffessor, with all due respect, you are more than capable of designing a bomb that can wipeout this continent. You have morals, but if it was a choice between Piltover and Zaun, what would you choose?"

"Piltover. I may not have been born here, but it is my home. Ah, I see. You are saying that if it comes to it, we could destroy Zaun, saving ourselves, but there would be thousands of civilian casualties. We would not be justified in a preemptive strike."

Caitlyn nods. Vi feels panicky. She wonders how a supposed physical examination turned into a talk about bombing cities.

"Besides, Vi is capable of reciprocating human emotion. If there are others, they should be able to do the same."

Vi wishes she could say something, wishes she could remember. But the topic changes; it's too late for anything to jog her memories.

"She's cleared for active duty?"

"Yes. Keep me updated on any further developments."

He signs the documents Caitlyn provides, and Vi chokes back a laugh at the pen. Opposable thumbs may have he, but the pen was smaller than her pinky.

"The same to you."

Caitlyn finally turns and addresses her.

"We will go on patrol tomorrow. Until then, it's back to paperwork.

Vi's excitement is instant. Finally, she could finish the job she had started. The task of abolishing crime in an entire city was made less daunting with someone besides her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I love you all.  
> DeadasFrick I am glad you think it is well written, but that is thanks to my beta-reader. Seriously, my phone hates me, she is the reason it is legible. That you look forward to my updates warms my cold, dead heart.


	8. Buildings are Designed Poorly

"Please?"

"No."

"Please? I promise I won't break anything."

"We both know that's not true."

"Pretty please with a cupcake on top?"

"For Sol's sake Vi, no! You don't even have a licence!"

"I've driven before!"

"You should not be telling that to an officer of the law."

Vi pouts, the gesture exaggerated beyond belief.

"I dare you to arrest me! I double dare you!"

Caitlyn pulls out a pair of handcuffs from the glove compartment.

"Whoah, whoah, I didn't mean it!"

Caitlyn turns her icy stare through the rearview mirror, onto the woman to her right.

"Really? But you dared me."

Sarcasm drips from her words.

"I take it back. I double take it back!"

Caitlyn puts the handcuffs back. The vehicle in question is a black and white police car. A shiny, new black and white police car. Caitlyn really wants it to stay that way. Vi seems to have different plans.

"So where are we going?"

She is bouncing in her seat with excitement. Caitlyn desperately tries to recall her insurance information.

"Normally, we have our new officers patrol the quiet areas, and leave the slums to the experienced officers."

Vi stops bouncing.

"However, since you have spent the last ten-odd years fighting crime- however convoluted your methods may be- we are going to the lower limits."

Vi perked up instantly.

"The lower limits? You'd go there?"

"Somebody has to."

"That somebody doesn't have to be you."

"Yes it does. I joined the force to heal the city. I'm not going to sit around and dish out orders from a desk. I'm not going to sit back while others risk their lives for my cause."

"Our cause."

The steel in her eyes softened.

"I think we'd get there faster if you let me drive, though."

"We wouldn't have a car if I let you drive."

"I'd carry you home. Saves time."

The traffic light chose this moment to change color. Vi is slammed forwards by the sudden change in movement.

"Next time, we can use the motorcycles. We can ignore traffic that way."

Anyone with sense would run from Vi's grin.

 

\---------------------------------

The lower limits have changed since the implementation of the soup kitchens. The first of the stands have only been out for a few days, but lines already wind around them. Police officers keep an eye on them, making sure no one steals. It pains Caitlyn a bit, not only the idea that someone might steal something free, but that the idea is justified. Vi stares at the kitchen too.

"Never thought I'd see something like this. You're doing good things, cupcake."

"You do realize that my subordinates address me as Sheriff, or, on formal occasions, Ms. Marshall?"

"Eh. Cupcake sounds better. It's more accurate anyway."

"More accurate? I am a Sheriff of Piltover. I am not a frosted dessert."

"You sure bout that?"

Caitlyn just stared\s at the oncoming traffic. Vi is strange, and not just in her biological composition. Caitlyn has a lot of questions she would like to ask, but very few of which she would ever bring herself to say. A few trivial ones though, she could manage. A few pieces of the puzzle perhaps would hint at the full picture.

"Is that your real hair color?"

Vi raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow, another thing Caitlyn had to wonder about. Although she wore metal clothes and almost came off as stereotypically masculine in personality, she always applied cosmetics. You didn't tend to think someone who believed the solution to every problem was punching wore mascara.

"Of course. The wackjob scientists obviously had style. Just look at me."

"I don't think 'wackjob scientists' care about making a fashion statement."

"Pfft. How do you know?"

"And the tattoos? How did you acquire those?"

"No idea. I'm just glad they aren't of flowers. Really suits my personality though. I'm glad I have them."

There. That was what Caitlyn was looking for. Vi with her metal fists had gears covering her body.

"How far back does your memory go?"

Vi stays quiet for a moment, as of debating the risks of answering that question.

"I remember being alone in Zaun. Then my gang found me. They said I looked like I was six. That's the age I go by now. My birthday. It's been just over nineteen years since. So I'm twenty-three. I don't remember anything before those days. I don't remember the lab or the scientists."

Caitlyn could sense she was hiding something. Vi may be a skilled liar, but Caitlyn was a master detective. Still, she had promised to respect her friends limits, and she would not go back on that promise.

"We're here."

The car stops in front of bar, much different from the one they met at. The front is torn down, and the sign spins on one string. The words are too chipped to make out.

"Where's here?"

"Reported location for a smuggler's den. They supposedly bring in illegal chemical products from Zaun."

"Reported? Supposedly? Stars Cait, you sound so confident."

"I'm here to investigate the claims. You are my back-up in the case that the reports are accurate."

"So you're the brain, I'm the brawn?"

"Yes. But you are only to act if I give the order."

Caitlyn internally punches herself. Although this was Vi's first time on patrol, Caitlyn made a bet with on whether any order she gave would be treated as a suggestion. If Vi listened, Caitlyn would have to bake cookies for everyone in the office. If she didn't, Caitlyn would eat a croissant for breakfast every morning for the next week. While not a gambler, she was pretty sure she was getting those croissants. A consolation prize if everything hit the fan.

She parks the car, and steps outside to survey the building. Vi follows, stretching like a cat.

"Won't they see the police car? They've gotta be suspicious."

"This is a normal spot for my officers to patrol. I myself have been here enough that being recognized isn't a problem. The bar, believe it or not, is still functional. We are going to go inside and pretend to investigate rumors about a wanted man."

Caitlyn unfolded a piece of paper with the likeness of a man on it. The man was older than the two officers, with long braided hair and dark skin that marked him as an outsider. On his head he wore a brimmed hat, and his face, instead of the placid expressions on most wanted posters, boasted a charming smile. The name below read "Twisted Fate".

"Twisted Fate? That a real person?"

"Very real. He robbed the Piltover treasury a few years before I joined the force. He had a partner with him, a man called "Graves". They were infamous gamblers and swindlers before Graves was caught almost a decade ago. The rest of their crew died trying to save him, but TF lived and has been causing trouble all over Runeterra ever since. There isn't a place in this world where he isn't a wanted man. I'm surprised you don't know about him."

"I don't mean to question your brilliant plan, but are they seriously going to believe we think that guy is in here?"

"It is a gambling den."

Vi grumbles, but follows Caitlyn to the remains of the door.

The Sheriff knocks, but there is no response. She knocks again. Nothing. She raises her hand to knock a third time, but Vi beats her to it. The door gives a "creak" of protest before falling off its hinges.

The inside is in a state of similar disrepair. The ground is splashed with stale alcohol, as if the staff could not be bothered with maintenance. The air is putrid, and everyone inside is yelling. There seem to be too many people for the space, let alone tables. The great clamor near drowns Caitlyn's thoughts, but it serves to mask their entrance. The bright blue of their uniforms should be shooting off fireworks to all the patrons, but no one is sober enough to notice.

Caitlyn navigates around the cluttered room with a refined grace, but Vi is not so becoming. She simply follows Caitlyn and nothing stays in her way for long. They walk up to the bartender, a man whose energy seems to have been leeched out of him. One of his eyes is bruised over, and his lip looks to be healing from a split. Upon seeing the two policewomen, he shrinks away, ducking under the bar and busying himself with some other task. Vi reaches out a hand to grab him, but Caitlyn stops her. The Sheriff folds her hands on the counter and waits.

They do not have to wait long. The man's head pokes out, checking if they are still there. He jumps at seeing them, before desperately collecting himself.

"What can I do for you ladies?"

"We are not here to drink. We want to know if you have ever seen this man."

Caitlyn pulls out the poster again, and the already twitchy man freezes.

"T-t-t F? You're asking if he's here?"

He starts looking around desperately, sweating bullets.

"I have never seen that man in my life. I swear it!"

The customers continue their merriment, oblivious to the scene unfolding.

Caitlyn's eyes sweep the room, before she turns and walks again to the door. Vi picks it up, and puts it back in the entryway.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

 

\-----------------------------------------

"So, what did you find?"

"The building is much bigger on the outside. The door is in the center of the facade out here, but it's to the left inside"

"So you think there's something more inside? Even if you're right, doesn't a black market have to be bigger than a few feet?"

Caitlyn sighed in frustration.

"Not the entire market. Probably just a hidden stairwell. The question is, how do we get into it? We need a permit to preform a legal search of the building, and we need proof to get a permit. We can't go in undercover because we don't know the password, and we don't even know how to get the password."

"I could beat it out of the bartender."

Caitlyn glared, her eyes made of ice

"That is definitely not legal."

"You could seduce him."

Caitlyn's eyes turned to daggers.

"Not happening."

"We could break in."

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Hey! I'm just trying to come up with ideas. I don't hear you saying anything, Miss I-Follow-the-Rules. Who reported this place, anyway?"

"I did."

"What?"

"I did."

"No, I heard you the first time. What I meant was, 'Why?'"

"Because no one else would. You once said that the government was corrupt. You were right. This is the black market, and as long as they can pretend it doesn't exist they will."

"But you're a Sheriff! You control the wardens. Can't you make them bust this place?"

"The wardens answer to me. I answer to the law. The law answers to the Clans. The Clans answer only to themselves."

"Screw that! Are you sure the black market is here?"

"Yes. But it doesn't matter unless I have proof, I told you this already- Wait, Vi what are you doing?"

Vi is walking back towards the door. She displaces it again, and enters the bar.

"Alright! I need you people to evacuate! I'm with the Piltover Wardens, and this place is structurally unstable! It could collapse at any moment! My partner here will cover your tabs, just leave!"

Vi hollers to the crowd, who respond with no great degree of enthusiasm. They grumble as they shuffle out of the door, but the promise of free drinks keeps them coming. Caitlyn, for her part, is horrified, but she keeps her mouth shut. She'd have to trust Vi.

"Okay, Cait, we're busting this place."

Vi walls to the left wall, but slows down halfway across the room. She pulls her fist back, and the mechanism on her back starts lighting up. Caitlyn realises what is about to happen a second too late. By the time she opens her mouth to shout, Vi has launched herself at the wall, her fist out in front of her face. She hits the wall with force greater than that of a battering ram.

It stood no chance. It lies in splinters around an unharmed Vi, who grins at her work.

"Hey, would you look at that! There really is a staircase here!"

So there is. Caitlyn had no choice but to chase after her partner as she charges down the staircase, ready to get her job done. 

"Vi wait! You can't just-"

The door at the bottom is reinforced with iron, but it offers as little resistance as paper to the enforcer. Inside is a dimly lit room filled with people wearing cloaks, hoods and masks. However, Vi's view is quickly obstructed as three men with guns rush the doorway and open fire on her. The men are to close to miss, but energy crackles to life around her as a shield snaps into place, completely blocking the shots. With Vi still alive, the close range quickly becomes a weakness. The three are sent flying with a swing of her gauntlets. The shield fizzles out, it's energy spent.

"Vi! You have to be careful. This place is a trade hub for toxic chemicals! If you break the wrong thing, everyone in here dies."

Someone in the back raises their gun to shoot a now vulnerable Vi, but all she hears is a "zing" as the weapon flies out of his hand. People rush to what must be a secret exit, only to stop as a net flies through the air, snaring them together. The exit blocked by the writhing mass of robes, there is no escape. Caitlyn fires again and again, using the knock-back to become a nigh-impossible target.

There are only two of them, true, but a partnership like this has never existed before. They know the other's movements like their own. Vi lunges into the combat, her fists sending people flying. Caitlyn stays at the back, and her accuracy is legendary. Every shot could kill, but always strikes a non-vital. People fall, clutching a leg, arm, foot. The one-sided fight is over quickly. When everyone is down, Caitlyn radios for an ambulance.

\-------------------------------------

"What happened here?"

The medics are staring at the scene in shock. To them, this place is only a tavern; they could not conceive of why innocent civilians would be attacked.

Caitlyn sighs. Even explaining this wouldn't be good.

"We had reason to believe-"

"That the building was structurally unstable."

Caitlyn is trained not to show her shock at Vi's words. There was no way she was trying to pull this off.

"I ran inside to warn the customers, and they left, but a wall collapsed. There was a stairway behind the wall, so I ran down it. I thought there might be people still stuck inside. The door was locked, so I broke it down. But then, the people inside started shooting at us!"

The medical team looked at the people on the floor. Caitlyn decided she needed to take charge.

"I shot to wound, not to kill. They should be fine. Please, tend to their wounds at the clinic. My partner and I would like to investigate the reason behind this aggression."

Amazingly, if they had any doubts, they kept their mouths shut. Their previous attackers were put into stretchers and carted out. Now alone in an empty room, Vi had the audacity to turn around and throw Caitlyn a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A toast to the completion of another chapter!  
> A toast to all the glorious people who read this!
> 
> Irlvi- I work on this on the way to and from school everyday. I am so happy you like it, it means so much to me.
> 
> NotAnotherBabyDyke- I don't know who to respond to this comment. Thank you so much. Thank you. I promise I will complete it. Even if everyone stops reading it, I will finish it just for your sake.
> 
> Qwerty145- Debonair Vi will definitely be making an appearance ;)


	9. A Greeting Between Legends

Two neat stacks of paper sit on either side of the Sheriff, a single sheet between them. Her pen moves at lightning speed across the document, her eyes laser focused on every word. The investigation at the pub had proved that it was a hub for criminal activity, and everyone inside the basement had been arrested. The paperwork was a small price to pay for such clean results.

"Come in."

The door opens lazily, and Caitlyn braces herself for the worst.

"Hello Caitlyn. I hope you're not too busy to see me right now."

To her surprise, it was not her secretary at the door, but a man dressed almost in costume. He was a welcome sight, even if dealing with him presented its own sort of trouble.

"Good morning, Jayce. Come right in, I always have time for friends."

He saunters in, looking pleased at her words, but stops in his tracks upon seeing her desk.

"Whoah. That looks painful. That's the nice thing about being a scientist instead of an official. No paperwork."

"Unfortunately, being the Sheriff seems to be my calling. I'll remember that if I ever feel the sudden urge to go into inventing."

He laughs, a deep throated chuckle.

"You don't have the brain for my kind of life, anyway. You work backwards, connecting the dots. I draw the dots."

"I hardly think you came all this way to lecture me about my lifestyle choices, Oh great Defender of Tomorrow."

"Since when did you get so sarcastic? Attempts at humor? Doing something other than paperwork? It's strange. If I didn't know any better, I might think you're actually happy."

Jayce finds himself on the receiving end of one of her signature glares. His eyes flicked to her ever present rifle, and he decided a subject change might be in order.

"I was wondering if you would like to grab a bite to eat with me? A new place just opened up down the block. I've heard it's truly splendid."

And there it was. If anyone else had asked this question, it would be innocent enough. Lunch with a friend. However, Jayce had his most charming grin on, accompanied by the glint of a sure victory in his eyes. Caitlyn liked Jayce, she really did, but his near constant attempts at flirting were going to drive her insane. Luckily, she had prepared for this.

"That sounds lovely! I've been meaning to introduce you to someone, and this seems to be the perfect opportunity. If you wouldn't mind waiting, she'll only be a moment."

His emotions did a quick three-sixty. Composed shock and happiness at her agreement, to resigned disappointment upon hearing there would be a third person accompanying them, before perking up at hearing this person was a she. "She" meant not a potential competitor for Caitlyn's affection.

"Of course. Any friend of you're is a friend of mine."

"I'll give her a call right now."

Caitlyn disappears down the hall, leaving a victorious Jayce to plot the next step in his plan.

\------------------------------

Vi has just finished her training for the morning, and is making her way to the cafeteria when she spots a disgruntled looking Caitlyn walking briskly down the hall. The Sheriff stops upon seeing her partner, and calls out to her.

"Vi, there you are. I was just looking for you. I hope you don't have any plans, because I mean to introduce you to a friend of mine."

Vi is a bit taken back by the command in her superior's voice, but is truly thrown off by the desperation she sees in her eyes. What friend could inspire such panic? She falls into step behind her as the make their way back into the office.

The man inside is instantly recognizable, and apparently so is she, as the surprise on both faces is apparent.

"Vi, this is my friend Jayce. Jayce, this is Vi."

Normally, upon being addressed to an admittedly attractive female, this was Jayce's cue to start flirting. One look at Vi, however, told him that his normal approach to things would disfigure his rather perfect nose.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Vi. The public has had much to say about you these past weeks."

She snorts.

"That's diplomatic. Much to say about me, yeah? How much of it true?"

This makes Jayce pause. Did she not know who he was? Or perhaps she knew his title and not his name. Yes, that must be it. Why else wouldn't she be swooning?

"I'd imagine most of it. Positive lies about someone's character don't sell as well as negative ones."

The look of distaste on her face deepens.

"What do you know about negativity? Everything printed about you makes you out to be a hero."

She does know who he is, then. She just isn't impressed. He would love to say it was the first time he was going through this, but that would be a lie.

"Now? Yes, I am a hero. No doubt about it. I saved the city in a most dramatic way. I'm known for my combat skills and not my brain. Now I'm a legend for it. When I was just an unknown scientist, though? The entire situation was my fault. I handed a weapon of mass destruction to our greatest enemy, and wanted to declare war to fix the mess I made. The press hated me. They got over that pretty quick though. They're indecisive morons, with no talent for science so they make up for it by spreading lies. I'm surprised your article actually painted you favorably."

Anger flares in her eyes.

"Well you did, didn't you? You're a hero for fixing the problem you created. I'm fixing a problem that's existed since this city was born. Don't pretend we're the same."

Caitlyn watches the exchange politely. Her face betrays nothing as Jayce's eyes lock into the enforcer's

"I'm a scientist, not a warrior. I could never do what you do, I wasn't designed for it. Just like you could never do what I do."

"Sit in front of a table, messing with bits of metal and spouting lines about how you're 'fighting for a better tomorrow'? No, I don't think I could."

"I make things that you can only dream of."

Caitlyn chooses this to step in.

"Alright, that's quite enough. Vi, have you ever met Jayce before today?"

"A gutter rat, meeting a legend? No."

"Then don't presume to know him. I would never be friends with an air-headed floozy. His inventions are what arms the police department. He advertises for us, and holds fundraiser for the underprivileged. He's the reason we were able to set up the Soup Kitchen's in the first place. That was over the line. There are more ways to help people than what we do."

Vi looks between the two friends, and grumbles.

"Sorry. I didn't know."

Jayce shrugs nonchalantly.

"It's fine. Don't make assumptions next time. Now about lunch?"

 

\-------------------------------------

"The new place" turned out to be a cafe. Luckily, it did have lunch options, and Caitlyn and Jayce were able to order sandwiches. Vi, however, did not believe in "segregating meal options", and ordered a plate full of pastries and a hot chocolate. She had just discovered the miracle of dipping cookies into said miracle liquid, and was completely lost in her own enjoyment of the food.

"How have things at the department been? I heard about the case a few days ago."

"It was really thanks to Vi we pulled that one off. That was the first time she'd been out on the field, and she was already pulling off the impossible. She charged into a room full of armed men like it was nothing."

Vi looks up from her plate.

"You're selling yourself short, cupcake. I didn't know it was possible to have that sort of aim. She shot the gun out of someone's hand."

Jayce, who had raised an eyebrow at the nickname, laughed.

"She could make that shot with her eyes closed. It's too bad she doesn't condone trick shooting, you'd be in for a treat. I'm half convinced she could put a bullet through someone's eye at a thousand meters."

"Condone it or not, you can't trick shoot with a sniper rifle. Any frivolous display would have to be one of accuracy."

Vi leans forward, crumbs sticking to her lips.

"So, what's the greatest shot you ever made?"

"This is pointless and a waste of time."

Vi's eyes grow big as she pleads.

"Please?"

"No."

"If you are going to be my partner, I need to know what you can do. How can I trust you otherwise?"

"She has a point there."

Jayce had been trying to get the answer to that question for years, and wasn't about to let his only chance at answers slip away.

Unfortunately, what Vi said did have a certain logic to it. She sips her tea, before beginning her story.

"It was when I was still a warden. I was tasked with protecting a former had of Clan, acting as her personal guard. I was sixteen, the youngest on the team. An assassin from Zaun broke into her room while she was asleep. The noise woke her up, but it was too late. I was on the roof of the next building over, awaiting an aircraft delivery, and the guard outside her door had been knocked out with some kind of gas. She sprung up, ready to go down fighting, but the assassin just threw his knife at her. It would have connected, too, but I shot it out of the air."

Their jaws dropped.

"No way. No-freaking-way. You don't shoot knives out of the air from a building over. That's not how it works."

Caitlyn takes her time with her sandwich. She days daintily, making sure that no traces remain in her mouth before she speaks again.

"It's in my file. I can give you permission to access it, if you'd like. What about you? What's the most impressive thing you've ever done?"

"You see, I was a street urchin. But then I sweet-talked a beautiful lady into giving me a job, and now I'm on the police force."

Caitlyn roles her eyes.

"No, seriously. The pay is much better than a bouncer's. I can afford to tip the serving staff and musicians whenever I go visiting. The best part? I get to beat up criminals for a living! How cool is that?"

She looks to Jayce for confirmation, all traces of former hostility gone. His grin is all snark.

"She's right, Caitlyn. You gave her her dream job. But I think I can do better. What say you to becoming a secret crime fighting force? I've got costumes and everything. The masked hero, 'Defender of Tomorrow', with his two stunning sidekicks, 'Piltover Peacemaker' and 'Steampunk'. Law abiding citizens by day, masked heros by night!"

Even Caitlyn has to laugh at that.

"Piltover Peacemaker and Steampunk? Lame. And why would we ever be your sidekicks? I'm the one with actual superpowers. No, it would be, 'Vi the Collosal' with her sidekick-slash-love interest 'Ace in the Hole'- We could call her 'Ace' for short- and the annoying tagalong they can't get rid of, 'Roosterboy'!"

Jayce is indignant at her suggestion.

"You can't have your real name in your superhero name! That ruins the point of a secret identity!"

Caitlyn makes her first comment since this interesting turn of conversation.

"That's the part you find objectionable?"

"Of course! And who says your the only one superpowers anyway?"

"Inhuman strength, remember?"

"So? Caitlyn has her inhuman aim and I've got my inhuman brains."

Vi nods her head enthusiastically.

"You're right! One word from your mouth, and they drop dead from boredom!"

"Excuse me! I will have you know-"

As he stands up, fuming to glare at Vi, she suddenly falls.

"Zzzzzzz.."

She goes careening off the chair, eyes tightly shut..

"Zzzzz... Honk-shoo.. Hey!"

While Vi was "indisposed", Caitlyn had snatched one of her cookies, and was nibbling daintily at it.

"That's mine! You can't have it!"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Yes you are! You're eating my cookie!"

"How would you know? You're asleep."

"Why you! I didn't want it to come to this, but I have no choice. It is time to reveal my true superpower! The ability to tell when one of my snacks is being eaten!"

She jumps up and lunges at the treat, but Caitlyn is faster. She pops the rest of it into her mouth without batting an eye. Jayce laughs hysterically.

"The great Defender of Tomorrow and Piltover Peacemaker vanquish the evil Steampunk! Good wins again."

While she is distracted with the indignantly of the situation, Jayce grabs another cookie. But she is prepared this time. Her hand shoots out and locks around his wrist.

"Thought you could get away with it, huh? Thought you could steal my cookies with no consequences? Well no more-What?! That's cheating!"

Taking advantage of her distraction, Caitlyn grabs an apple tart from her plate.

"I'm being overwhelmed! No!"

While her head is turned, Jayce snatches an eclair with his unbound hand. Vi let's out another wail, before releasing his wrist and curling around her diminished pastry plate, covering it with her metal hands and letting out a growl.

Caitlyn struggles to contain her own laughter, and heads back to the counter.

"Two mint teas and a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream, please."

The serving staff seem at a loss for words at the site of the prim and proper Sheriff, the genius Defender of Tomorrow, and the impossibly tough Enforcer acting like schoolchildren. Apparently, the best course of action is to comply with her demands. She brings the drinks back to the table, where Vi has strong armed Jayce into giving her her eclair back. The result of what must have been a truly epic battle was a squashed pastry, and jam all over the two culprits' fingers. Caitlyn wirelessly passes a sulking Jayce a napkin with his tea. He makes a face.

"You know I prefer coffee."

"I used my executive powers to cut off your caffeine supply."

She winced as he spoils the perfect drink with milk and sugar. Vi takes her hot chocolate with glee, not bothering to clean her sticky face and hands.

"Cait?"

"Hmm?"

"... There's something in my liquid chocolate."

She is sniffing at the marshmallows suspiciously.

"Those are marshmallows. They're not poison, and they go incredibly well with hot chocolate. Try them."

"What are they made of?"

"Sugar, egg whites and-"

Caitlyn cuts him off frantically.

"You don't want to know. Just trust me on this one. They do taste good, though."

Her suspicion deepens, and she takes one of them on her spoon to sniff at.

"Eat it with the chocolate. It's best all together."

She complies, and her face lights up. She puts the mug to her face, and tried to gulp down the hot chocolate. Unfortunately, it is hot chocolate, and she scalds her tongue. She makes dramatic fanning motions in vain attempts to cool it off. Jayce laughs at her predicament.

\--------------------------------------------

All in all, it is an eventful lunch break, and Caitlyn is sorry to see it end. As they are walking back, Jayce breaks the companionable silence.

"So, Caitlyn... The party the Clans are hosting next week."

"We are calling it a ball to honor the Demacians, but what about it?"

"Will you go to it with me?"

There it was. The dreaded question Vi pretended not to hear. She had seem the way he looked at her.

"Sorry. As the head of the Police Force, I'm attending it with someone else."

Disappointment streaks over his face, instantly replaced by surprise.

"You are? Really? Who?"

"Vi."

Vi trips and stumbles, unable to catch herself. Jayce chokes. Caitlyn waits for Vi to right herself.

"As she is my partner, and it is her first social outing, it would be natural for her to attend with me. I don't know why you're so surprised."

His face clears.

"Oh. That's what you mean. I thought she was going as your... You know?"

"My what?"

"Well, when you say someone's coming to an event with you, it's only natural to assume... You get what I'm saying here?"

"Natural to assume what?"

"He thought I was your date. And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"It isn't. I told you about this two-weeks ago. This is non-negotionable.

Her face is completely blank.

"Just because you weren't paying attention doesn't mean it didn't happen. The details should be on your desk. Show up at my place at 4:00."

With a furiously blushing Jayce bidding them goodbye, the two women enter the building and continue their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we hit 500 hits. Thank you so much. Thank you.
> 
> Qwerty, Caitlyn has absolutely no idea what she has gotten herself into. None. And it will be glorious when she finds out.


	10. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been re-written! The letter is now a warning, not a threat, and the description of the government ha changed to reflect the Clan system of the new lore.

When Caitlyn drives home that day, she is not entirely surprised to see that the little red flag of her mailbox is sticking up. She had put no mail in it herself, as she rarely ever sent physical letters from her home. Someone else had tampered with it. She parks her car, and walks over to the offending appliance. Inside, instead of the usual array of junk mail, is a single off-white envelope inscribed with purple cursive.

 

_Caitlyn Marshall_

 

_262 Maple Street_

 

_10013_

 

There is no return address, only a wax seal the same purple as the writing. It depicts the likeness of a dissected rifle. The symbol of her parents business, something ordinary and mundane for her to receive. Seals had practical purposes too. You could tell if the letter had been opened. This one was still crisp.

 

Caitlyn enters her household, and fiddles with the ages a moment. She has an idea of what will be inside, but she can only hope it is good news. She sits down on her armchair, and runs a finger through the crease of the envelope, breaking it open. The words themselves are simple enough.

 

_My Dearest Daughter,_

 

_I hope you are doing well. We have missed your presence these past weeks, although I am sure we will see you again soon._

 

_I see_ _Vi is still on the force. You have no idea how relieved I was to hear she made it past inspection. I knew you would find a way. I have read reports about her first job, and it seems you left out a few details last time we talked. Breaking down an iron door and fighting off dozens of armed men? I know you were there too, but it seems she is nothing short of miraculous._

 

_This brings me to my point. I have heard rumors surfacing from our esteemed academy. A series of unusual_ _simulations have been run, apparently pertaining to how someone would achieve superhuman strength. At The same time, the famed Doctor_ _Heimerdinger_ _has been holed up in his lab for weeks, pouring over computers and microscopes._

 

_Concerned for the welfare of possibly_ _Runeterra's_ _brightest mind, I went to visit him. He seemed to be in a state of distress. He told me he had found DNA evidence from a woman that pointed towards development of human weapons. He stated that he needed more_ _samples_ _, but didn't want to hurt the unidentified subject._ _Any power currently developing weapons through human experimentation is of a risk to us, especially if they happen to be on opposite sides._

 

_I trust, for your sake, that you have no idea what he was talking about. If the Clans were to find out about an unregistered human experiment in the heart of the city, the consequences would be dire. I am letting you know now because it is part of your job to take care of these things, and I would want it resolved before it becomes too much of a threat. Having humans competing with weapons would be bad for business, especially with this whole augmentation fad going on._

 

_Please, write me back on the progress of your partner! I have hear many good things about her, and cannot wait to meet her._

 

_Your doting father,_

 

_Richard Marshall_

 

Bad news it is then. Heimerdinger was prone to muttering, and if he did it in the presence of the wrong person, Vi's secret would be out.

 

_Dearest Father,_

 

_Thank you for the heads up. This wouldn't be the first time we heard rumors of a human weapon, but it never hurts to check them out. We wouldn't want your business to drop, now would we?_

 

_On the subject of my partner, I have invited her to the gala with me, and she has accepted. Introducing what will surely become such an important figure in our city to our allies seem like the logical next step._ _I miss talking to you to. Give my regards to my mother, and tell her that the food served at the gala will surely not be as good as her home cooking, although telling the chefs that cooking is just like inventing is probably not the best way to get them to listen to you._

 

_Thank you for your concern,_

 

_Caitlyn_

 

Thank you for the warning. Vi will soon be in the public eye and a lot safer. 

 

The government of Piltover was controlled by the wealthy, something that Caitlyn absolutely detested. The Clan houses held all the power, both politically and technologically, as they had the brightest minds working under them every year. Free standing business like her parents' were a rarity, as most inventors worked as apprentices under specific houses. Her parents were proud of their independence, though, and seemed to serve all of Piltover, not just the extremely rich. The Clans, however, resented them for it. If one of them had sole access to the beautifully crafted weapons, it would be a considerable advantage over the rest. Many Clans had tried bribing her parents, but never to any avail. Blackmail, however, just might. If they threatened to fire Vi or even herself... 

Caitlyn doesn't worry about the latter, though. They wouldn't have a leg to stand on. Her record speaks for itself. Ever since she first started catching crooks, crime took a nosedive. Less and less people lived below the poverty line everyday. She is worried about Vi. To put it bluntly, having a human experiment from Zaun as the Sheriff's partner was not the best thing for public image. It didn't matter that the majority of the force liked her, it didn't matter that she could pull off jobs that had been impossible before, it didn't matter that she was within her legal rights to hold this job. If the Clans wanted her gone, it would take only the slightest excuse for them to do so. She couldn't give him the smallest opening.

 

The only thing protecting Vi right now were sentience laws. Any creature possessing sentience is granted the same legal rights of a human. Vi certainly possesses sentience, so she would

have to fail her job requirements, a decision left up to Caitlyn, or actually break a law to be evicted. Which was quite probable, now that Caitlyn considers it.

 

Her past crimes amount to nothing, as her record had been cleared upon joining the force. It was any further ones that could cause a problem. Police Brutality, Excessive Force, Breaking and Entering, Destruction of Public Property and Perjury were all things she could have been convicted of so far. Fortunately, they had been excused as necessity in the line of duty. Investigators had found the building in disrepair, and confirmed that some of it was, in fact, from before Vi's "reckless behavior". The smugglers had confessed to attacking her on site, so Vi and Caitlyn's counter-attack was justified self-defense. The bar owner had been arrested on dozens of counts of harboring a fugitive. Caitlyn had to cover the value of the destroyed property, but she was fine with that. As for Perjury, well, no one could prove she had no knowledge of the state of the building before hand, and Caitlyn wasn't going to correct them.

 

So far, the government could not intervene. The safest thing Caitlyn could do would be to assign her only to simple, low-risk jobs. However, that would defeat the point of hiring her in the first place. She would have to trust Vi.

 

Strangely enough, Caitlyn is comfortable with this. Despite only knowing her for a few weeks, she finds the other woman's presence enjoyable. Vi is like no one she has met before. And, Caitlyn decides, that is not a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 600 hits? What!? Am I missing something? Thank you all.
> 
> Qwerty145: I am so happy to see your frequent comments. A funny story about Jayce. When I first wrote that chapter, I worote him in such a way that I could not conceive of why Caitlyn hadn't killed him yet. He was pretty much Draven. I had to re-write the chapter because of it. Thank you for the warning, it's hard not to jump into my shipping paradise right away. I probably needed it. I actually did a lot of research into the Piltover gang before writing this story, and I chanced upon something I don't think has been noticed before. I think it ties everything together, and will be my secret weapon in the end. Thank you for supporting me all this time!
> 
> Notanotherbabydyke: Thank you! Your reaction is similar to mine whenever I see a cat doing anything, so I will take it as the highest of praise.
> 
> Irlvi: Writing that chapter put me in a good mood, I'm glad it showed. It's hard for me to be serious about things, because I just love how Caitlyn is so dignified, and how Vi does everything in her power to change that. Vi brings out the side of Caitlyn she's had to repress all her time in high-society, and it makes me die and go to shipping heaven every time I see it.


	11. A Sea of Gold

Friday morning sends the office into a panic. The Sun is barely peeping through the sky-line, but officials of all sort are charging through the halls, desperately trying to finish a weekend's worth of work in the next few hours. The Demacian entourage would be arriving soon, and the whole city wanted to see it.

The streets surrounding the central district are covered in flying blue and gold banners, merchants are setting up their stands, security drones march down the cobbled streets. Tiny, darting aircrafts dot the sky, zipping from watchtower to watchtower. The roads to the City Circle are barred off, drones and private security standing in front of every would-be entrances. Men and machines alike carry heavy baskets of white stone to the city hall, and the glittering of hex crystals flickers whenever they pass.

Separate from the column of security bots is a much larger yellow robot. His movements are clunky compared to the precision of the spindly drones, and lack the same solid purpose. He, for his voice is clearly masculine, seems to be trying to start a conversation with one of them, but to no avail. They determinedly ignore his passes, much to his disappointment.

Among it all is the Sheriff. Rifle holstered, she surveys the crows, no deed going amiss to her sharp eyes. Every vendor has has their permit checked, every worker has presented their I.D. The network connecting the drones has been shifted to a separate frequency, only accessible by those who have the password. Heimerdinger, as their creator, is one of them, and entirely too pleased about it. It is all Caitlyn could do to prevent him from setting up turrets around the perimeter. He is typing madly on his computer, using the contraption he carried around as a third arm. An idea seems to have hit him, and she braces herself for the repercussions.

The little creature calls out to the strange robot, who rolls over, happy to have someone to talk to. He could probably crush the professor by accident, but neither seem apprehensive. He gestures excitedly for a moment, before calling for Caitlyn as well.

"Hello, Sheriff! Pleasure to see you today. This man here is Blitzcrank- but of course you already knew that, he was all over the news!- Anyway, I don't think you have met. Mr. Blitzcrank- wait, I already said who she was, and your facial recognition software should tell you anyway. Hmmm... This is a most unusual introduction. How are you to introduce to people who already know each other, yet have never met? I need more data."

He is becoming more and more flustered by the second, and Caitlyn decides to throw him a rope.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Blitzcrank."

She holds out her hand to shake, and he takes it delicately, careful not to crush it in his iron grip.

"The pleasure is mine, Madame Sherrif. I would be more concerned for his health, but my data indicates this is normal behavior."

Even his voice lacked the sleek, fluid quality of most robots today. It sounded like it has been put through heavy static, and his words were disjointed. His hardware is surprisingly basic for such an advanced creation. From what Jayce has told her, Viktor seeks to "evolve" humanity through the glorious perfection of cybernetics. It seemed strange that the first robotic life form would be so... Clunky. Even stranger when she contemplates the fact that Blitzcrank could wipe out their entire force of the newer security drones without batting an eye. The fact that he didn't have eyelids is, of course, irrelevant.

"What did you want to talk to us about, Professor?"

It is after hearing her own human voice that Caitlyn realizes the oddity of the situation. Even in a world as strange as this, she never expected to be having a conversation with a robot.

He stops muttering to himself abruptly.

"Ah, yes. Blitzcrank was-", he turns to the person in question, "Born? Is that the right word? Manufactured? Created. He was created in Zaun, not unlike your friend-I was just telling him about her- Vi. He didn't have instincts and hormones and the like, so his- father?- creator pre-programmed information onto his memory card. Viktor was just a student, he hadn't yet started his crusade, so the information he's given us hasn't been of significance that regard, but when he heard about your partner, he demanded to see you. I'll let him explain from here."

The golem nodded his assent, and began.

"Seventeen years ago, in December, there was an explosion in Zaun. It took out an entire block, and left the building it originated in nothing more than ash. Even the iron and concrete had melted. All the equipment inside had been destroyed beyond any hope of recovery. The building had been listed as a factory producing weapons, chemicals and explosives, and this caused the complete destruction. In the ruins, miraculously, it is said that they found a girl, next to-"

Caitlyn listens attentively, but her mind is buzzing. She holds up a hand.

"I appreciate you telling me this, sir, but it is none of my business. I see what you're getting at, but I trust her. If she wanted me to know, she'd tell me herself. I promised I wouldn't pry. I intend to keep that promise."

Blitzcrank hums his agreement.

"All the same, if you ever want to know, I will show you the records. I am not sure what to make of them myself, and I am hoping they would make more sense to you."

"Thank you."

Any doubts she had about the humanity of the being in front of her are banished. An AI, no matter how advanced, couldn't hope, even for such a small thing. Even if his sentience had already been established, it is different to see it first hand.

Suddenly, he freezes, and the voice that comes out of his audio player is not his own. It is the distinctive voice of a yordle, and any child could recognize it. Still, it sounds like it is coming through a blender.

"This is Scout Squad leader Corki reporting in. We have sights on the blues. Everything is progressing as normal. Over."

Heimerdinger chuckles. Like every other sound he makes, it makes him sound like a maniac.

"This excursion took you 27.45 minutes. You're getting slow, old friend. Over."

The voice also adopts a maniac quality.

"Who are ya' callin' old, gramps? I'm surprised ya' can still hear me at this age. Anyway, I didn't exactly take the... Most 'efficient' route. Over."

"Showing off again? Shame on you. What would our Sheriff think? Over.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Anyway, I haven't been properly out in ages. It ain't enemy territory, but it's better than the 'controlled flight zone'. I did my job, quit cha' yapping. I'll put the guy on, complain to him. Over."

A few seconds later, the voice through the intercom is human.

"This is communications officer Sergeant Kain, reporting in."

He sounds more than a bit bemused, presumably by the fact that he is speaking into a radio for perhaps the first time. Corki interjects, but it's clear he's not talking to them.

"Over. Ya've gotta say 'over' at the end of a transmitter and let go of the button."

"Over."

"This is Sheriff Caitlyn Marshall, reporting in. What is your current location? Over."

"We can see the port, but we are still a few hours away. Besides a few bouts of seasickness, everything is going smoothly." There is a pause. "Oh, over".

"Corki will stay with you. Report on your progress every hour, sharp. Over."

"Understood, ma'am. Over."

"Oh and Corki? I understand that I have no jurisdiction over you, so feel free to 'show off'. Over."

\----------------------------------------

Regular work hours arrive, but hardly anyone shows up. Caitlyn hardly expects them too, anyway. They all have the day off to prepare. This leaves her with a series of robots as a conversation partner. 

To her surprise, Blitz is not a bad conversationist. Naturally, he is very well educated about plenty of subjects, but the strange thing comes from his opinions. He's an ethicist. You would expect a robot to care only about the most logical outcome, but Caitlyn plays that role in their mini debates. She must admit, however, it is awkward to talk to someone who is being consistently interrupted.

Corki reports back every hour, yes, but he takes it upon himself to inform the professor of everything he encounters on his journey.

"These people are strange, I tell you. Their ships are powered by wind! Strongest military in the world, and they have yet to master electricity. This Kain fellow, he calls himself Master of Communications, do you know what he does? He ties letters to birds!"

Caitlyn roles her eyes at that.

"We have tried to explain electricity to them, but they won't listen. They don't trust it. They stare at the transmitter like it's some kind of trick. And don't get me started on my craft! It's absurd! Apparently, it's "not natural" for a human to fly. What da they think, yordles are born with wings? If bird's can do it, ya better be darn sure we can too. All these soldiers are letting themselves be outdone by a little squawker with wings."

Apparently, he could be just as bad as Heimerdinger if he put his mind to it. Where all yordles obsessive to the point of insanity? Or is it just these ones? They did seem to be smarter than even a very brilliant human, just based on the ones she has met on her job. Though she did read somewhere that companionship is a basic need to survive for them. Perhaps this is why.

It is a strange way to pass time. The two old friends seemed to exist in parallel worlds, each only capable of talking about their own thing, but somehow they made it work. Between the transmissions, the professor would fiddle around on his computer and notepad, trying desperately to make his fingers keep up with his mind. The results were have finished sentences and unrecognizable sketches. Ocasionaly, he would say something to the others, but it always seemed to just be a way for I'm to bounce ideas off a wall. The robot is quiet for the most part, but in a way that suggested he is afraid, or perhaps embarrassed, to ask something. Eventually, he speaks.

"Vi. Your partner. How do you feel about her?"

Caitlyn readies her ice glare, but quickly realizes it perhaps wouldn't be as effective on a robot.

"Why do you ask?"

"I ask because it is a controversial decision to have her on the force. She had a criminal record, and no police training. Yet she was cleared for fieldwork in half a month. It does not make much sense. You are popular, and are doing well. The people like you. If you had run for Mayor, I can decisively say you would have won. Now, the odds are less sure. People are questioning you. You were decreasing the rate of crime at an exponential rate before, why change things now? Why would you risk everything for a plan with no guarantee of success? What is she to you?"

"My goal is not to climb the ladder. My goal is to clear the city of all crime. So is hers. It seems only logical to work together."

He hums, the equivalent of an indecisive grunt. Before he can say more, however, their conversation is interrupted.

"We're comin into the docks, so yah might wanna hurry it up and git over here. I can already hear the crowd."

\--------------------------------------

The unloading of the ships is a choreographed affair. First, the royal guards. They are in dress, the uniforms too ornate to be of practical use. Strangely, for such discipline exuded in every step, there is no uniformity in weapons. Many carry longswords, but equally as many yield lances, and a handful carry rapiers. As the guards file out, a gasp is heard from the crowd. The reason is obvious. A demon steps foot onto the dock.

It wears minimal armor, so its monstousness is clear for all to see. Its skin is a red-purple, covered in tiny scales. Its eyes are yellow lizard slilts, twisted into an expression of pure fury. Around it, the air is distorted with heat. Gauntlets adorn its claws, shaped like roaring dragon heads. Cracks in the disciplined array of soldiers form, everyone trying to creep as far away from it as reasonably possible. Another step, and the twist of muscle breaks Caitlyn's view of a demon, replacing it with something else. It is a woman. The armor makes sense now, too. It is not for the sake of protection but for decency. A way of describing it would be an iron bikini, except it seems to be made of the same strange material she is. Every step betrays her power, and something primal in Caitlyn screams for her for run. She doesn't. Instead, she stays at her place by the mayor's side and forces herself to keep her hands away from her holster. Even through the evidence seemed decisive, she is not yet ready to confirm her first rumor.

Next are the nobles. Only the major nobility are attending, but the sheer amount still shocks her. The Buevelles, the Laurents, the Vaynes, the Spiritmights, the Crownguards. And, of course, the Lightshields.

The Lord and Lady Buevelle are, for once, not alone. Although no longer young, the pair had never been with child. It had always been a sore point that such a strong house had no heir. Now, however, there is an Ionian girl with her, though perhaps girl is not the right word. A young woman with blue hair, a strange piano-harp floating in front of her. She carries an aura of beauty and elegance.

The Laurents are also different. In the place of the head is a woman, who Caitlyn recognizes as the eldest daughter, Fiora Laurent. She walks with an air of confidence, her expression painfully arrogant. Even in her dress suit, she looks every bit the duelist; the rapier strapped to her side more than just a pretty blade. The apparent masculinity is thrown off by the trim of her waist, a rose in her lapel, and a pair of flat heels. Her kinsman reek of false formality, and Caitlyn confirms the second of her rumours. The new Master Laurent is a patricide.

The Spiritmights are beautiful, almost unnatural. They stand tall, looking like the elves of legend. Their skin pale, their lips blood red, with eyes and hair the color of coal. High, sculpted cheekbones and an elegant sweep of the neck, the Spiritmights were a family of swans. Queen Catherine's origins are obvious; her family looks every bit the part of nobles.

The Crownguards are the strangest group of people ever to share blood. No one would ever think they were related. Tall and short, bulky and lithe, with a virtual rainbow of hair and eye colors. Everyone of them is dressed in gold and blue, looking the epitome of patriotism.

Master Crownguard may be middle aged, but one glance betrays the warrior he doesn't even bother to hide. His wife is not nearly as physically imposing, a small woman with greying hair. Her eyes are her tell. She seems ready to snap at you if you put so much as a toe out of line. Behind them are their children. General Crownguard is an ox of a man, taller and broader than Vi even, but lacking any of her grace. He towered over his family, standing over seven feet, with a broadsword bigger than Caitlyn crossing his back. In stark contrast to his bulk is his face. It's round, a baby-face, with bright blue eyes and an almost cowlick. His expression is surprisingly soft and gentle.

To say his sister is dwarfed by him is an understatement. The Lady Luxanna looks like a porcelain doll, so fragile she could break under a strong breeze. Her eyes are blue, and wide in wonder. Her hair is the same color as her armor, and it glitters in the sun. Idly, she twirls a baton through her fingers, the prism at the top arcing rainbows in the water. The motion stops for a moment, and a grin splits her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Caitlyn sees Ezreal wave, a blush on his face.

The entourage files out into the pathway, before splitting into two evenly spaced lines. As one, they drop to a knee, and place a hand over their heart. It is time for the king to make his entrance.

He is literally wearing gold. His armor, his crown, his lance. All of it. How he carried it all is beyond her. Jarvan III stood straight as an arrow, his lovely queen on his left. He is rugged, even when cleaned up, while she is as delicate as a willow. Their son, to the left of her, took after his father, his mothers beauty lost. He has the dark hair, the dark eyes, the ragged angles and scraggly almost-beard. His armor is a shrine.

It is covered in scales, claws, bits of fur and hair, tusks, horns teeth. Every one of them is matted and unpolished, bloody and grimy. It is clear that there is a story behind every fragment, an epic of courage and loyalty. His eyes tell them all. They are pieces of flint, of obsidian, steady and sharp. He does not look so young anymore.

On the right of the king is a man with no more life in his posture than that of a statue. He stands completely still, so without movement that his eyes bore holes straight ahead. They're cold, hard eyes, and she sees no warmth in him.

Down the path they walk, to where the Clan heads wait. Down the line the King walks, until he reaches the Mayor of Piltover. She wears a dress with a high collar, and concealed beneath the helm are heels that make her seem at least three inches taller. There's a tense moment of stillness, each expecting the other to make a move. Then, she extends her right hand in offering, and King Jarvan grabs it sternly. A bow is a gesture of servitude, a handshake is between equals. Let the ceremony begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! There was no Vi in this chapter, so it wasn't as cute, but the next chapter will be super shippy.
> 
> Thank you for 700 hits and 50 kudos. This is insane. I can't believe how many people have read this. I am so grateful to you all.
> 
> NotAnotherBabyDyke: You are scaring me, but thank you?
> 
> Qwert145: Politics are playing a big part in this fic, so I'm glad you enjoy reading about them. My beta reader (The reason this thing is even legible) loves politics, and is one of the major reasons I ever began this. Thank you for the very precise complements, and as always, your regular feedback!
> 
> Krugger: That is all thanks to above mentioned beta-reader. But thank you anyway!
> 
> SiriusDragon: Thank you for pointing that out, just fixed it. That would have been really awkward otherwise...


	12. A Party by Halves

"You wanna tell me why exactly the Demacian big-wig guy decided it was a good idea to pull all of their fighters out of the capital in the middle of a war?"

Vi is half-skipping through the streets, annoyed by the mundane method of travel.

"Officially? It's a declaration of goodwill to us. Unofficially? Noxus isn't anywhere near them."

Caitlyn is the picture of poise, desperately trying to be be dignified enough for the both of them. Their blue uniforms would draw attention on any other day, but they go largely unnoticed with all the bustling. It's Vi, as usual, who draws attention. The virtual giant with pink hair and tattoos looks out of place anywhere in the refined neatness of Piltover. Heads turn wherever they go, recognizing the now infamous woman. A simple glance downwards is enough to identify Caitlyn. This results in a strange mixture of warm smiles and ugly looks.

"Huh? Aren't they sworn to destroy each other or something?"

Caitlyn sighs. She's been doing a lot of that lately.

"We discussed this at a meeting you were too 'busy' to attend. Noxus and Demacia are two superpowers. No other country can even begin to fight back. Noxus, as cliche as it sounds, wants to take over the world. Demacia stands in their way. However, as of late, the Noxian army has grown, so they decided, instead of trying to smash their way through the wall, to go around it. They plan on conquering the rest of the world first, then Demacia. Right now, Noxus is using Zaunite technology to "invade Ionia". In reality, they are using greater technology to cause mass extermination. The inhabitants are peaceful, they don't believe in fighting, even to protect themselves. It's not a war over there. Then there's the 'Barbarian Pacification Campaign'. It's an attempt to break up the native tribes of the Freiljord. They are legendary fighters, but they are few and divided. Noxus wants to stomp them out before they can unify. A unified Freiljord would be devastating, but is unlikely to happen. Internally, Noxus has a policy of extreme racism to non-humans, primarily yordles, capturing and experimenting on any they find, alienating Bandle City. They are already sending out expeditions to try and find their home, but with no success. They've tortured yordles to insanity, but not one has given up the location. If they do find it, however, using superior yordle technology, they could easily decimate Demacia."

Vi slows her pace, trying to use her recent crash course in politics to understand a situation the political masterminds of the world had been trying to understand for years.

"So they're the bad guys?"

It was an ironically naive view of the world for someone who became a criminal to stop criminals.

"It's a lot more complicated than that. We don't have a standing army, so we would be of little difference on a battlefield, but if Demacia were to send troops to Ionia and the Freiljord, perhaps they could fight back. Instead, Demacia sends only token aid to Ionia and nothing to the Freiljord, so it's a complete slaughter. Not to mention that, while championing honor and nobility, it is Noxus who allows advancement above ones station in life, while in Demacia, despite the crown not being inheritable, has everything largely determined by blood. The best a common man can hope for is mandatory conscription to an army. Demacia has internal struggles as well, they are incredibly fearful of magic and will put any partitioners to death. It's a battle of ideology as much as it is a clash of men, and Noxus' freedom is very appealing to those banished."

Vi stops in her tracks.

"So one is an evil military that wants to take over the world, and one is stuck in the dark ages? Why would we want to help either of them?

Caitlyn stops too.

"Demacia is... Difficult. They don't want to risk loss of life on smaller nations. They think Noxus will weaken itself spread this thin, and are biding their time to attack. Noxus knows this, of course, but their army is so large they don't care. We ally with Demacia because, while Noxus wants to expand on a global scale, Demacia is content to let us be. We would befit more from having Noxus off the battlefields than on it."

"Wait, wait. We're a smaller nation. Why do they care about us?"

"Hextech."

Caitlyn starts walking again.

"Hextech?"

Vi jogs to catch up.

"Weapons and luxury items, for the most part. Think of it like this. I'm a sniper. I always hit, everything I aim at. I can get off two and a half rounds per second, and am lethal from three thousand meters. From three thousand meters away, I can kill two people a second, with no one able to come close to me, even with magic. It's skill, yes, but even an average soldier could learn to make a half-decent shot from 30 meters. A longer range than a crossbow, more accurate and more deadly. And our weapons aren't just prices of metal. Each is imbued with power, and takes years to make. The guns circulating the black market are peashooters compared to this. Little bits of mass produced metal, liable to come apart of someone looked at them funny and about as accurate as relationship advice from Heimerdinger. Think of the devastation an army of us could wield. Demacia, they like combat the way it is. They have the advantage in melee brawls. They don't want Noxus flipping the tables."

"So they don't want guns, they want Noxus not to have guns. I get that. But why come all the way here? Can't they just send a letter or something? 'Hey Piltover rich schmucks. You know those Noxus jerks? Don't sell them firearms. They'd shoot you with them. XOXO, Demacia'. That would do the trick."

"They want to negotiate for luxury items. Cars and electric lights. That's why all the major nobles are here. They want to buy a contract for their houses, and think that they can impress us with shows of strength and wealth. It's difficult for a monarchy to comprehend how our system works."

"Monarchy is when there's a king, right? So this 'gesture of goodwill' is a business meeting? What do we get?"

"One ruler, yes. And protection. We are part of the world, and only distance saves us from Noxus. After Ionia, they might turn their gaze to us. If Demacia swears to protect us in exchange for this trade agreement, we become part of the wall. This is not a deal we can refuse. That means you, as my partner, have to make nice, and look nice. Your normal attire won't cut. Here we are."

They stop in front of a store with mannequins in the window frame. Richly dressed mannequins.

"Caitlyn, if the fate of our country depends on me wearing a dress, we're dead by tomorrow."

\------------------------------------

Vi stares at the wall of the fitting room, wondering what she did in a past life to deserve this. She wouldn't wish this fate on a serial killer. Was the existence of the world as she knows it worth such agony? Probably not. If it had been a dress, that probably would have been a definitely. At least it fit her well, even Vi could see that. Which was probably a miracle, come to think of it. Caitlyn's voice calls from outside.

"We don't have all day. If it doesn't fit, we need to act quickly."

"It fits."

Her voice lacks its usual cockiness, in fact, if Vi didn't know herself better, she might think it sounded... Timid.

"Come out. Let me be sure."

Well, death-by-embarrassment was a whole lot better than death-by-poison gas, so perhaps she could do this. A look in the mirror confirms that it is, in fact, a white suit. Vi doesn't know much about suits, but she knows this one is fancy and completely impractical.

She looks around for her gauntlets, before remembering she had left them at home. Fine. Although her hands felt naked without them, she was far from helpless. If anyone dared to laugh, she would tear them apart.

That thought making her feel considerably better, she pulls open the curtain. The assistant is on her in a moment, armed with a sewing needle. However, after a few tugs she stops, looking contemplative. She turns, presumably to Caitlyn.

"It's a perfect fit. How did you manage that? She's not exactly built like most women."

Well, okay then. Most women couldn't punch you through a wall, but sure, let's comment on her figure.

"I used a spare uniform. We had to have it fitted."

Vi was suddenly incredibly grateful she only had to endure that torture once. She has had enough of fussy old ladies and their pins to last a lifetime.

"Well, everything seems in order, and you've already payed, so feel free to leave anytime!"

Those were the words she wanted to hear. Vi steps out of her cubicle, and... Well. Every cell in her brain just promptly short-circuited.

It wasn't that she had never noticed Caitlyn before. She noticed all pretty girls. But suddenly, "pretty" seemed a woefully insufficient word.

Caitlyn, apparently, has no such inhibitions about clothing choice. She is dressed in a midnight blue dress, sweeping down to her ankles. Ironically, it probably covers more skin than her uniform, with long sleeves, getting wider as they traveled down her arms, ending in pale gloves. The neck rises far above the point of decency, and although the garment hugs her figure, there is nothing even remotely indecent about it. But that doesn't mean Vi has no reason to stare.

Her face is done up, diamonds studs at her ears and her hair twisting into some sort of complex knot, bejeweled pins holding it in place. It looks very uncomfortable. Cosmetics line her eyes, and they seem to glitter when she blinks. There is a light coat of pink on her cheeks, making her look flushed. She looks like she came out of a fairytale. A vague attempt at a though registers that the woman before her is her boss, and probably doesn't appreciate being oggled. Vi wants to tell her thoughts to stuff it.

Caitlyn turns to the sales lady.

"Thank you for your assistance. We must be on our way now."

Is there something wrong with her voice? It sounds strained. Though, Vi's not exactly being subtle. Being stared at for so long would faze anyone, stone heart or not. She turns back to Vi, her gaze sharpens again, loosing the far-away look.

"Pick your jaw off the floor. You'll collect bugs that way."

Vi attempts to deny such a behavior, but any argument is foiled by the swift realization that yes, she is gaping. Mutely, she bobs her head in the resemblance of a nod and follows her superior out the door.

\-----------------------------------

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Caitlyn hears Vi behind her, recovering from the earlier embarrassment. So what if Vi thought she was attractive? She had already made that clear in their first meeting. Her reaction was illogical. She needed to maintain control. And control meant professionalism.

For once, the pink-haired motormouth is silent, and Caitlyn knows she isn't imagining the awkwardness in the atmosphere. Well, now is as good a time as ever to put her diplomacy to use.

"I believe a quick debriefing is in order."

If she didn't take the bait on that one, she wouldn't be Vi. Still, there is a moment of hesitation before she responds.

"At least buy me dinner first."

Without even looking, Caitlyn can tell her smirk has returned.

"Don't worry. Refreshments are complimentary. Which is what I wanted to talk about. Do not stuff your face, or consume a copious amount of alcohol. Foreigners they may be, they are still nobles, and are taught to judge people by their table manners. My other officers were also given this warning, at another meeting you were too busy to attend."

She scoffs.

"Like anything they could serve would get me tipsy. I worked at a bar, remember?"

"Until the good Professor runs tests on your alcohol tolerance, you will drink like a normal, responsible human being. Also, I feel this goes without saying, but try not to break anything. Or insult anyone."

"I won't start anything."

Caitlyn hears the unspoken end of the sentence. "I'll leave that to them." And suddenly, the magnitude of the situation hits her. Her deal with her father ends today. All they have to do is make it through the night, but starting a fight at a so-called display of friendship is as sure a way as any to get kicked off the force. It would be a lot harder to work with a disgraced cop than an ex-criminal.

"Vi, I'm serious. These people, you represent something they hate. The statesmen, the rich. You are a symbol that their time is coming to an end. We are a symbol that their time is coming to an end. A city of the rich, propped up by the poor, and we are going to end this. They don't know to fear what you are, they only know to fear what you will become. I am the law, and you are my right hand. More important to me than my gun, and a complete wildcard. I gambled putting you on the force, and went all-in making you my partner. There is no longer a 'you' or a 'me'. Every mistake you make, every success you have, it's mine too. And, if we make it through the night, the same will go for me, too. I cannot afford to lose you."

They have stopped walking, and Caitlyn is looking up at Vi's face. Her eyes burn with the intensity of her words. Her entire demeanor has changed, and even in the dress, even in the make-up, she looks more dangerous than when her sniper is pressed to her eye. Vi has stopped smirking, all of her faux confidence falls away. Inhumanely strong, created to be their own pet weapon. But they failed, because Vi would never allow herself to be wielded. They failed, because she is human. Together, they are a twin mirror of determination, two sides of the same coin. It occurs to Caitlyn that, without her mental armor, Vi might be beautiful. It occurs to Caitlyn that, more than her mission, more than her job, she doesn't want to lose Vi because she is Vi.

"Cupcake, I've never fought in a war before. But with you as my commander, I'll do whatever it takes to win."

 

\-------------------------------

It starts from the moment they show their invitations to the guard at the door. A raised eyebrow, followed by a hard look at Vi. They prepared for this, though, and instead of punching the man in the face, she lets Caitlyn do her thing.

"Is there something wrong?"

His gaze flicks to her, and, upon seeing the uncompromising look, back to the invitation. He waits for an unnecessary amount of time before handing it back and stepping aside.

The inside is a flurry of gowns and suits, The foreigners instantly recognizable from the citizens. The Demacians, true to form, look absurd. It takes all of Vi's self-control to avoid smirking. Their dresses have more layers than a building has stories, and enough ruffles and lace to fund an army. Vi almost winces upon seeing their shoes, so pinched and bedazzled it was a miracle they could even walk. The men, thank Sol, are dressed far more reasonably, in elegant suits of black and grey, and a sash of blue across their shoulders.

Caitlyn holds out her arm, and, after a moment, Vi takes it. Her face betrays none of the surprise she feels. Linked, they walk towards the front of the room, Caitlyn expertly navigating the crowd. Vi has none of Caitlyn's grace, and the reason for their joined arms is quickly clear; Vi lets Caitlyn steer her through the crowd.

Even though Vi avoids bumping into anyone, she still gets those dirty looks. An entire family of nobles stops to glare at her. Well, at least she had been warned.

The congregation of Piltoverian officials tense when they see the two of them, but stay composed.

"Ah. I see you arrived without any difficulties. We are still waiting for a few others. When they arrive, we can start the festivities. We need a representative from all of the clans before we begin negotiating."

The speaker is another Sheriff, he looks familiar to Vi. He's much older than Caitlyn, perhaps in his mid fifties, but stands with authority. Still, the weapon he carries is standard issue, and even she can feel the lack of energy. A fight between him and Caitlyn wouldn't even be fair. Curiously, she looks around at the others standing besides him. Some are other Sherrifs, but most are Clan Heads. With the amount of metal parts between them, Vi could build her own armory.

At this point, she knows it's more than just a fad. Most of the augments are weapons of some sort, or elegant replacements for lost limbs. Still, she knows it's impossible to lose that many limbs naturally. Her own gauntlets had been mistaken for arms, once, and the resulting encounter made her feel like she had been far too close to joining a cult.

She notes that every clan is accompanied by exactly one artificer. Out of them, she only recognizes one, Jayce. He seems incredibly bored and unwilling to be there, but perks up upon seeing the duo. Someone forced him into a suit similar in style to her own, and she sees him suppress a laugh at the sight. She promptly decides that she will make him pay dearly for that... later. After the Super Important diplomatic meeting that decides the fate of the known world.

It's only a few minutes until the last of the representatives arrive. Vi feels the term ”fashionably late" should apply here, for the duo enters as if they were on time, and everyone else was early. A strange pairing they were indeed. The man sits in a wheelchair, looking old and feeble. His skin is wrinkled and nearly translucent, hanging from his too-skinny figure with its last fibers. He is bald, and his eyes are clouded over, making it seemingly impossible for him to see. The woman behind him, who must be his granddaughter at least, is his stellar opposite. She is young and strong, but her eyes are those of a killer. Cold and hard, but not in the same way Caitlyn's sometimes were. Whenever Caitlyn tried to glare Vi down, it felt like a mask. Ice to cover up the softness in her heart. Whoever she is, the woman's face felt like a mask. Any physical semblance to humanity felt like a facade. Something else about her doesn't sit right, but Vi can't put her finger on it. Whatever it is, Caitlyn's figured it out, as the grip on her arm tightens into a deadlock. The chair stops moving, and the woman steps out behind it. Vi barely contains a gasp. From her hips, extending downwards instead of legs, are two blades.

They shine blue from the light reflected off the crystal, the edge so sharp it feels like a look could cut. The point of each must be smaller than the width of Vi's pinky, but she balances neatly, not showing any signs of struggle. It begs the question of how long she's been like this, but Vi doesn't want to ask. Vi's been fighting all her life, but she gets the feeling that she isn't the only one.

The pressure on her arm hasn't let up, but Caitlyn's face is smoothed and composed. Her internal turmoil is hidden so well it's scary. Well, Vi's not going to be the one to give up the ruse, no matter what it may be.

Blade-lady scans the room, assessing threats. Finally, her eyes come to rest upon the the two of them, and an eyebrow raises, before quickly fading into a smirk. Her eyes flick down to their linked arms, and her smirk only widens. It is clear what conclusion she has drawn.

"Sheriff Marshal, how good to see you again. I must confess, I did not expect to see you here after our last meeting. Allow me to express my pleasant surprise. And this is the lovely lady I have heard so much about? I see now why you have spurned the advances of those suitors."

Her voice is mechanical, like it is blowing through a fan. Surprisingly, though, she has the same accent as Caitlyn. While Caitlyn's makes her sound refined and intelligent, however, blade-lady's makes her sound snobbish.

"My Lady Camille, how kind of you to worry over me. I must assure you, however, that such a minor setback could hardly deter me from reaching my goal. The information your clan provided was most helpful, and allowed me to tie up more than a few loose ends. You have my gratitude."

Does having a fancy accent give you access to some sort of secret language? Because Vi is sure that whatever words are coming out of their mouths, the intent behind them is completely different. She's sure no pleasant memories would make Caitlyn cut off the circulation in Vi's arm. Executive decision making: Whoever this "Camille" lady is, Vi doesn't like her.

"I am happy we were able to be of service to you. What happened to your parents was tragic, and it is our duty to prevent it from happening again. Whom did you find responsible for it?"

At this point, Vi is surprised she still has a arm. Whatever it is they're talking about, it's clear perhaps to only Vi the discomfort it brings her. What about Caitlyn's parents? They were still alive, weren't they? Caitlyn mentioned them a few times.

"Now is hardly the time to discuss such things. I shall send you a copy of the report."

"You have my gratitude, Sheriff."

Camille and her companion move on to converse with others, and Caitlyn's grip relaxes. Vi feels the tingling sensation of blood rushing back into the limb, and is tempted to shake the pins and needles out. Caitlyn shoots her an apologetic look.

Someone clinks a glass, and the room goes quiet. The old man in the wheelchair rises, and begins his speech. His voice is feeble, warbling like a bird's.

"We are gathered here today as a declaration of good faith between our two nations. Runeterra is faced with many dangers, the likes of which haven't been seen since the last Rune Wars. Alone, we stand no chance against the changing world, but together..."

It was going to one of those speeches, wasn't it? The ones that stretched out forever, and had twenty double-meanings. Listening to this would be a waste of her time, the likes of which haven't been seen since orientation day. No, Vi has a much more productive idea in mind. Her eyes flick to Caitlyn's face, and stay there.

Caitlyn, it appears, is actually listening to the speech. There's a little furrow between her brows, but otherwise, she's the picture of a society lady. Vi's back aches just from looking at her posture. The little crease on her forehead deepens, and her lip twists sideways for a moment. Suddenly, the look of fierce concentration fades into one of grim understanding, and she leans over on her tiptoes to whisper something into Vi's ear. Or where Vi's ear would be if she was actually paying attention to the presentation. Instead, Caitlyn winds up bumping her nose against Vi's lips. The surprise on her face, Vi decides, makes her own inevitable death worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> Qwerty145: Thanks for pointing that out. It's in the old lore, back when the JoJ was a thing, but that was declared non cannon so I probably had to explain it. I hope it wasn't to expositional. Anyway, I completely agree about Shyvana. She's a DRAGON. She's not going to be mooning over anyone. THEY ARE NOTHING BEFORE ME.
> 
> NotAnotherBabyDyke: While I do love fluff (OH MY GOD I LOVE FLUFF), I want this to explain a lot of the lore too, and it would bother me if this couldn't actually be cannon do to some puny lore update. Rito has nothing on me. (I'm just kidding, I love you Rito, now make my ships cannon).
> 
> Edit: 03/01/17  
> THANK YOU FOR 1000 HITS!  
> I never thought we'd make it here. This is incredible. Thank you. Thank you so much.


	13. A Dance of Secrets

Vi's eyes flash wide; she looks like a deer in the headlights. For a moment, Caitlyn can only stare as the blood rushes to her face. She fixes Vi with a look, hoping it accurately conveys all feelings of anger, irritation and exasperation, before spinning on her heels and forcibly focusing her attention back on the stage. Caitlyn still feels the heat on her cheeks, and resigns herself to the fact that she should have seen this coming. In what universe would Vi ever be actually paying attention to something other than food or girls?

The man's voice, amplified as it is, sounds only like a mute buzzing. The fate of this world sounds considerably less interesting when compared to the brightness of Vi's eyes. What was she going to say to her again? Something about the power struggle between the clans? It mustn't have been too significant if Caitlyn had forgotten it so easily. She generally had a a very good memory, a necessity for a job such as hers. She frowns, and searches for the lost memory, but all she can see is a pair of violet eyes, so close to her own. Caitlyn had always loved the color purple, but, until now, preferred a darker shade. Vi's eyes, however, were much lighter than her typical purple, and wonderfully suffesticated. Clouds of lilac, trailed by darker highlights.

The speech is buzzing in her ears, the words make no sense. Steven Ferros is a snake, and always will be. There isn't anyone here who doesn't know it. Excepts, perhaps, Vi.

Her Father's warnings flashing quickly in her mind, all the heat leaves her face. Vi doesn't know who the man in the chair is, doesn't know what the woman besides him has done. The look in Camille's face is predatory, hungry as she surveys the crowd. No one moves without her knowing, and Caitlyn has no doubt she witnessed the scene between the two partners. Although nothing incriminating happened, the flush on her face would say otherwise. Camille is a weapon, wielded by Clan Ferros, and Caitlyn knows that her bullets would have precious little effect on her steel exterior. If she even began to expect the secrets Caitlyn kept, being in the public eye would do precious little to save her. She is very confident in keeping herself well-hidden, but Vi... Hiding from the Zaunite mockery of the Wardens was much easier than hiding from an Intelligencer.

Unbidden, a memory of their last conversation flashes through her head. Camille pouring tea as she listened to the story of her parents kidnapping. The advice she had given then was wholly inaccurate, but in such a way that proving so was impossible. It would take some one as thick as a brick to be unable to make the connection between "C" and the mysterious Intelligencer that had been working for Clan Ferros for a century. Officially, she was some sort of distant cousin, but records of someone matching her description dated back to before Steven accended. People spoke of the Intelligencer for Ferros, not knowing whom they were referring to. They said she had no heart. Caitlyn privately agreed.

Camille's bright blue eyes, the same as her brother's, stop their flitting and rest upon Caitlyn's. Caitlyn meets her stare, steadily, and gives her a slight nod. The cyborg's eyes hover for a moment, before passing on to her partner. Vi, at least, has the decency to pretend to be paying attention, but she's not fooling anyone. Her fingers curl and uncurl, her feet tap a frantic pattern on the floor. The effort to keep her sight away from Caitlyn is painful obvious. Camille turns back to Caitlyn, her lips twitching almost imperceptibly in a smirk.

The gears start turning in Caitlyn's head, and the room disappears. Caitlyn's feelings for Vi are not entirely professional, and Camille knows it. Platonic or otherwise, it's a bond she intends to exploit. Vi wears her heart on her sleeve, and, unless there's some sort of miracle, it'll get her killed. Inhuman strength doesn't stop a blade to the neck, or a bullet to the brain. Her Father is right. She has to tell Vi, before Camille figures it out on her own.

She's brought back to the present by the sound of applause. Steven's speech has ended, and Camille is looking elsewhere. The crowd begins to disperse, floating towards the edges of the room. Vi eyes the array of delicacies, in no doubt what is supposed to be a subtle way.

"The food isn't going anywhere. There will be plenty of time to eat after the entirety of the Demacian nobility judges us. For now, follow me."

For a moment so brief anyone else would have missed it, Vi stops her twitching and stands stock still.

"Caitlyn? Who was that woman?"

Please Vi, don't ask this question. You don't want to know. Please be asking about some pretty girl who caught your fancy. I don't want to loose you.

"Which one?"

"Blade-leg."

Some small part of Caitlyn's mind hisses at her. This is what you wanted, right? This is why you brought her in. She's the only one who can help you with this. And now she's going to die for it."

"Camille Ferros. She's been augmented to better serve her Clan."

"Ferros? Those rich schmucks? They tried to recruit me, once. They tried to bring me in once, just before you did. Didn't work well."

Caitlyn's blood turns to ice.

"What?"

"Yeah. They said something about bringing me to meet someone. I figures it was just code for arresting me, so I told them to get lost. They told me they wouldn't take no for an answer, so I punched them."

"How did you know they were Ferros?

"I looted them when they were out."

"Strange..."

"Ya think so? There was a bounty on my head."

"Do they look like the kind of people who need money?"

"Eh. Guess not. But rich people are weird. Er, present company excluded, of course."

Caitlyn forces herself to roll her eyes, and takes Vi's arm again. The sleeve is already crinkled, and she makes a conscious effort to loosen her grip this time. Arm in arm, Caitlyn guides Vi to a group of blue-eyed Demacians. She inclines her head in a greeting, and feels Vi quickly follow.

"Lord and Lady Crownguard. It is my pleasure to welcome you to our home. I trust the journey went well?"

"Perfectly, Madame Sheriff. Though I must say, it would have taken much less time if we had one of those airships I saw flying about."

She feels Vi contain a snort.

"Very impressive, aren't they? Clan Mitos is the leading manufacture at this moment, so I'm afraid you'll have to ask them for more details."

Lady Crownguard sighs.

"We would love to, of course, but it seems that they are rather busy right now."

Indeed, the Mitos artifacer is swarmed by Demacian technicians and nobles.

"That's okay, all those people? They're going to wind up scammed. Every year, Piltover and Zaun holds a contest to see who can build the better aircraft, and this one's coming up soon. The tech is so cutting-edge, you'll cut slice eyes, and huge hextech strides are made directly afterwards, when all the brains try to reverse engineer the winner. Wait two months, and any aircraft you get will put the others to shame. Ask anyone on the streets. They'll tell you."

Lady Crownguard seems abruptly taken back, but the tiny blonde girl giggles abruptly. It sounds like a violin being played without enough rosin, too much air and lungs. Beautiful as she is in appearance, the Lady Luxanna Crownguard's laugh does not match. Vi visibly cringes in pain, before starting upon realizing just who this young woman is.

"Thank you, Vi. We will."

"You're the one from the picture! At the birthday party. Lux?"

Heat hits Lux's face, the red a sharp contrast with the blue of her eyes.

"I had no idea news of my birthday ball had spread so far as Piltover."

Caitlyn steps in before Vi digs a hole nobody can get out of.

"You are a celebrity here. Such an accomplished military career at such a young age? Who hasn't heard of you?"

"You flatter me."

Her face had cooled a bit, and she mouths a silent, "Thank you".

"She's only saying the truth. You are a prodigy in every sense of the word, sister."

The future Lord Crownguard, Garen, towers so far over both of them that looking him in the eye would be comical. Only Vi, well used to being the tallest in the room, is close enough to carry any semblance of normal conversation. Combined with massive shoulder guards, he stands twice the breadth of any ordinary man. On anyone else, the features would look threatening, and while Caitlyn knows this man is dangerous, he is clearly a gentle soul. His eyes sparkle kindly, and his hair seems to be in a state of perpetual disarray. It's funny how young he looks.

He brings one giant hand down to clap his sister on the shoulder, and Caitlyn is impressed she doesn't just fall over then and there. She turns to remark this to Vi, but something that can only be described as a diabolical grin lights her face.

"You guys seem like reasonable people. It's a pleasure to meet you."

And then, to Caitlyn's horror, she holds out her hand to Garen. Handshakes were common enough that even the nobility knew them, and were seen as a sign of respect. At least, in upper class Piltover. On the streets, handshakes were a test of dominance. Whoever yielded first was weak. Caitlyn has no doubt that Vi has just issued a challenge to Garen, but she doubts he knows it.

"Don't take that."

To her surprise, both Caitlyn and Lux spoke at the same time. However, Lux was addressing Vi. To Caitlyn's horror, Vi's grin only widens, and Garen's lips quirk upwards.

He takes her hand. Vi's grin splits her face in half, and Garen squeaks. He holds on, though, until a resounding crunch is heard, and he yanks his arm back to his side, where is hand hangs uselessly. His face holds a look of deep respect for Vi, who bursts out laughing. Between ragged ploys for air, she chokes out the words,

"Welcome to Piltover"

Garen stares at her in what can only be described as awe, before he doubles over laughing with her. Lux rolls her eyes and signals for a healer. Caitlyn just thanks Sol that the Lord and Lady Crownguard has been occupied for the end of that encounter.

After they are safely out of earshot, Caitlyn turns to her partner, who wears a self-satisfied smirk.

"What part of diplomacy did you not understand?"

Vi feigns surprise.

"That was diplomatic! Extremely diplomatic. In fact, I just made us a new ally!"

The worst part of this entire situation is that Caitlyn can't even get properly angry, as Vi is right. Not that she'll ever voice that thought out loud, but she supposes some measure of gratitude is in order.

"That's enough international incidents for today. You get a food break to recover."

Vi looks like Caitlyn had just promised her the moon.

\------------------------------

The food tables are empty, something Vi considers to be akin to high treason. Caitlyn is half-convinced that the only reason her rather rugged partner even bothered to show up is the desserts. Upon voicing that particular theory out loud, Vi nods her head vigorously, her cheeks bulging with half-eaten food.

"You can't blame me for thinking the conversation's dull. It's all, 'politics' this, 'money' that. I mean, these people probably spend more in a day than I will in my entire life, and they want more money? They'd fit right in below."

She paused for a moment, before cocking her head to the side.

"Scratch that. They wouldn't survive a day. Fancy words don't stop the monster from ripping you apart. I doubt it even speaks Human."

"You would be surprised. Everyone here is a mighty warrior in their own right. And you don't really believe in monsters, do you?"

Vi snorts.

"Typical Piltie. You won't find a Zaunite who doesn't believe in the Howler."

"I'll believe it when I have proof, thank you very much."

"Whatever. It's not like you'll ever see it. It's afraid of daylight."

"The big bad Howler, terror of Zaun, afraid of a little sunlight. One day, if we ever have to investigate Zaun, I'll prove it's a fake."

Caitlyn starts internally at her own words. "One day". Vi has a future here on this force, and now they have time for "One day".

"Listen, Vi. There's something I need to tell you, but I can't do it here, we would be overheard. Dance with me."

"Uh... Cupcake? No offense, but if you wanted a dance, all you had to do was ask."

"This isn't a joke. I'll lead, I doubt you know how to waltz."

Vi looks slightly bemused, but grabs Caitlyn's hand and shoulder anyway. Caitlyn's brain is working overtime, assessing the distance between them and every other couple on the floor, the volume of the music, the placement of the security cameras, the space between them. As they move, Caitlyn is surprised to learn that she was wrong, Vi can waltz, and well too. It's nothing like their first dance, which was free from their jobs. This one is controlled, and a little furrow between Vi's brows speaks for it.

When they stand next to the blue-haired Buevelle musician, and the music is so loud she doubts listening in is even possible, Caitlyn pulls Vi closer, and whispers into her ear.

"Don't react. No matter what, you can't react."

She spins her, Vi detached from the motion, and ends the move with her lips against her partner's ear. Her voice barely more than a breathe, almost without sound, she continues with the fatal words.

"Haven't you ever wondered how your parents died?"

A piece of paper passes through their clasped hands, into Vi's sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter was a bit delayed due to finals. 
> 
> Dude: The lore is honestly my favorite part of League of Legends. Dr. Mundo, he's a Zaun problem, and Zaun seems to have very little care for their Madmen. Piltover won't deal with him as long as he stays in Zaun, and if his reputation is useful. The Intelligencors could destroy something, or kill someone, then go, "It was Mundo", and everyone would believe him. As for bringing in other universes, the main focus will be Piltover, but I plan on expanding it to explore other areas, starting with Zaun. I want to eventually build up to when the Institute of War is founded, and then I will go further across Runeterra. 
> 
> Willsonjr: Thank you! I plan on seeing this story through until the end.
> 
> EternityCode: You flatter me... I loved your story and I can't wait for the next one either. I have two things I ship unconditionally, and that is and will always be Caitlyn x Vi, and TF x Graves. It means a lot to m that you hold me in such high esteem, but I'm honored I've become recognizable. Thank you so much.


	14. Deja Vu

The way Caitlyn moves is dizzying. She's confident, but not in the way that Vi is. Instead of the Enforcer's bold swagger, Caitlyn is contained silence, so assured in her abilities that she doesn't need to prove them. Her dancing is just like that. No tricky moves or fancy steps, just a simple elegance that seems to float her above the floor. She's above any worldly need to impress, and it leaves Vi breathless.

Physical contact with other people has always been strained for Vi. Bones and flesh break so easily, even in her natural hands. The area where her hand rests upon Caitlyn's shoulder feels electrified, and even through the pale gloves, Vi can feel every tiny movement in Caitlyn's fingers.

So she knows the moment everything changes, and she's swept in for a twirl. The difference in height makes the move difficult to pull of, but Caitlyn holds Vi so that her lips press against the shell of her ear. The music, so loud before, is drowned out by the immediacy of the words hushed into her ear.

"Don't react. No matter what, you can't react."

Vi fights to keep the twitch of her eyebrow down.

The dance continues, but Vi is no longer there, she's detached from her body, letting herself be pulled along. The only thing she truly feels is the twitch of Caitlyn's arm, the air leaving her mouth.

"Haven't you ever wondered how your parents died?"

The slip of paper burns a trail down her arm as it falls into her sleeve, and it's the last thing she feels for a long time.

Vi's legs are still moving, and she's vaguely aware of the lights, but the electricity is gone from the moment and the world has gone far too hazy. She thinks she might have fainted, might have died or been possessed, because the world has gone very dark, and somebody's screaming, except nobody else seems to notice. Nobody notices the fact that somebody else is controlling her body, because she keeps dancing, follows Caitlyn's lead without missing a step. Her face twists into a smirk, but Vi isn't the one who makes that expression. She's on autopilot, a puppet, while the temperature in the room sky-rockets, and air is too thick to breathe. It tastes like soot, like ash. The screaming stops, choked out, and it's quiet now, so quiet, except for the buzzing in her head.  
\----------------------------------  
When she wakes up, it's in her apartment, still in the white suit. She doesn't remember coming home, or going to sleep. The jacket is wrinkled and creased, but otherwise unharmed. She sits up, pulling her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The covers lie in a disorderly heap against the back of the bedframe, unused. Her hair falls over her back, pieces escaping the constraint of her ponytail, tangling together into a cotton candy colored rat's nest. One strand is stuck on her lower lip, and Vi raises her arm to swipe it away. She freezes mid movement.

A piece of paper presses against her arm. The events of last evening come rushing back, and Vi is torn between opening it as fast as possible, or ripping it into a thousand pieces. She ready has a goal for herself, and her parents had no part in it. Some parents they were, if they had let this happen to her.

Slowly, she picks the folded square out of her sleeve. The edges are exact, crisp, lining up perfectly, the paper so white it hurts her eyes. It's about half the size of the circle she can make with her thumb and forefinger, and as thin as the material for her jacket. It occurs to her suddenly that she could crush this reminder from her past, tear it into a thousand pieces and cast it away. She could continue on with her life, her job, as it was before, and clean up the city without letting her personal feelings interrupt her work.

But she knows that's not the case. The words of the man who ran the orphanage still echo in her head, and the cries of the trapped miners are stuck in her ears. It's never been just a job for her, and maybe now, maybe now she stands a chance at ending the corruption her cities are so infested with.

Her fingers capable of crushing cinder blocks to dust, tremble as she pinches the edge between her thumb and forefinger. Unfolding it takes a millennium, but once it's open, she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"The fire wasn't an accident. It was arson. If you want to learn more, go to the place we first met. I'll be waiting all day. If you don't, I understand. Destroy this letter."

There is really only one thing to do.  
\-------------------------

The looks the same as when she left it, with its bright lights, merry faces, and drunk buffoons. They stand outside, grinning like fools, telling crude jokes and making passes at the young women who walk pass. One glance from Vi sobers them up. It's strange, to think that this was once her life, and stranger to think that things aren't so different now, but everything's changed. It's only been month, and she's still catching criminals, yet now she has Caitlyn by her side, and that makes all the difference. She pushed open the door, and is hit with a strong sense of deja vu.

Leigh still stands behind the counter, mixing drinks for customers. The band still plays live music, and the same couple still dances. Mrs. and Mr. Mason have been married for over thirty years, and have been coming here since long before that. Apparently, she proposed to him at that very spot.

Leigh spots her, frozen at the doorway, and a grin splits her face.

"Vi! I wasn't expecting you today! We've missed you. The boss isn't here right now, otherwise, I'm sure he'd run out to greet you. What's the occasion? Got a date?"

"Nah. Today I'm all buisness. I'm investigating a murder, believe it or not."

Vi hates lying to Leigh. They've known each other for a long time, ever since Vi saved her from a human trafficking ring. She had seen things, terrible things, but always faced the world with a smile on her face. They had both been taken in by the same man, and, strangely, she makes Vi feel almost normal.

"Really? So the beautiful lady sitting in the corner is without company?"

Sure enough, Caitlyn sits in the corner of the cafe, an overdecorated teacup in her hand. She's wearing the same disguise she wore when they first met, and the deja vu is almost overpowering. Her cup is covered in little pink flowers, curling around the lip and base, and Vi wonders where Leigh had gotten such a thing.

"Watch it, that's my boss you're talking about."

Leigh blinks and shakes her head.

"A sheriff, in this dinky place? Never thought I'd see the day. Ah, well. Warden or not, she breaks your heart, she's not gonna be so pretty anymore."

"She's my boss. Not my girlfriend."

Leigh just fixes Vi with a look. It depicted both condescension and extreme disbelief, and Vi couldn't find it in her self to argue anymore. Leigh steps out of her way, and, a tremor in her hand betraying her confident stride, she slips into the seat across from Caitlyn.

There is no expression on her face, nothing to betray the thoughts in her mind. She sets her half-empty cup of tea on the saucer, and looks Vi straight in the eyes.

"You came. I wasn't sure you would."

"You promised me answers. What choice did I have?"

"You could have walked away."

"No. I couldn't have."

Caitlyn tips her head incrementally, perhaps in acknowledgement, perhaps in understanding.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more yesterday. It wasn't safe, there were too many people. I'm sorry we live in a world where I have to tell you this at all. "

Caitlyn's voice is silent, for a moment, but her eyes are louder than any sound.

"Your parents worked in a factory. I don't know their names. I can give you a list of possible candidates, if you'd like, but it would all be speculation. Whoever they were, they died in an accident when you were in infancy. Seventeen years ago, the factory they worked in burned to the ground.

I didn't ask about what took place inside the labs. It's your secret, if you even remember it. But I know who started the fire, and it wasn't a petty criminal. The entire project wasn't Zaunite. It was authorized by a high ranking clan in Piltover. Whatever they were trying to do to you, it didn't work, and they wanted to destroy the evidence.

I don't want to pry into your past. That's not why I did this, I did this because I need your help. People have been disappearing for almost a century, and nobody has noticed anything strange. People disappear all the time, in Zaun, after all. But the people disappearing weren't ordinary civilians. They were all wealthy artifacers, their work well known throughout all of Piltover. Yet nobody reported anything.

I tracked down a pair of recent victims, to a warehouse in Zaun. They were unharmed, but they had been forced to... Work on something. They didn't know what. I tracked down everyone with any relationship to the case, starting with the guards at the warehouse. I worked my way up, until I hit a blank. The mastermind behind the operation, as far as the rest of the world's concerned, doesn't exist. They left no trail, be it paper, physical, or in memories. Nobody knew who their employer was, nobody had seen anything, nobody had been given a way to contact them. I have only one clue, and only one theory that holds anything close to water. However, the place it leads is dangerous, far too dangerous for me to go alone.

The person who destroyed the factory, he wasn't as careful. He died just after the explosion. But it wasn't the flames that killed him. He still had remains, it was smoke inhalation. It was chalked down to the fact that they had been at the edges of the blast zone, but... Someone showed me an article. It had a picture of the arsonist in it. He was augmented, but it wasn't standard repairs. At first glance, it was nothing unusual, a missing arm and a few toes, but Vi... He had a prosthetic lung. It was high-tech, too, it would have filtered out the smoke. He had been changed for this task, yet he still died. They said it was an electrical malfunction, caused by the heat. I disagree. I think he was murdered, to hide the evidence. Someone in Piltover authorized the murder of your parents, and had a hand in what you are now.

His murderer, they're the key to everything. They're clever, able to adapt on the fly, but they're arrogant, too. They don't think anybody has the intelligence to match them. At the warehouse, where the artifacers were taken, I found this."

Caitlyn, in deft movements, sweeps the hat from her head. Vi, her heart pounding, can only watch as, from inside the lining, she produces a simple playing card. She holds it between her two fingers, and rotates it with a flick of her wrist. It's blank, except for an ornate gold C, the ends twisting and curling together. It seems too ceremonial to be the only piece of evidence in a case this big, and Vi can only stare. Her fingers, of their own volition, drift to the right side of her face, and rest upon her tattoo. Caitlyn's eyes flick to them, and Vi can see her gears whirring. Suddenly, she snaps back to reality. The cup of tea, frozen halfway to her lips, falls from her fingers and hits the ground with a clatter. The card follows with a gentle flutter, and she springs to her feet, every muscle in her body rigid. She opens her mouth and screams,

"Take cover!"

The words don't mean anything to Vi, not at first. She's still trapped in Caitlyn's narrative, her head still buzzing from the implication, but Caitlyn's under the table in a flash, her gun in hand, and something smashes through the wall, right where her head was only a moment before. A small black object follows immediately after. It flies through the air, and all Vi can see is Leigh, staring in confusion at the scene, and the old couple, still dancing, and she dives, pushing herself as far as she can, and grabs the package with her bare hand. The force of her jump sends her with a skidding crash into the far wall, unable to stop her course.

The last thing she hears is a cackle of maniacal laughter, then the world explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updates are going to be a bit delayed from now on, schoolwork is getting crazy. But fear not, great reader! This story only ends when I say it ends. I'm not giving up now, or ever.  
> Thanks for reading! The plot has been developed! All the information about Vi's parents was taken from her lore, than expanded upon, but my confidence in the identity and role of "C" comes from in game interactions.  
> SiriusDragon: Cliffhangers are actually quite fun. They make me feel like na evil mastermind. It's surprisingly addicting.  
> Vicious: Thank you, it means so much to me that you enjoy it. Characterization has always been important to me, but writing the interactions between Piltover's finest always just feel right. There's a certainty to them, they complete each other, and I really want to show that. Your comment made me feel like the hours I spent pouring over their every dialogue is less shameful. If this was real life, I would be arrested for stalking. You always brought out a good point, I didn't have a synopsis before! I kind of was procrastinating that, so thanks for the push!  
> Willsonjr: Never be nervous about commenting! Your kind words bring a smile to my face, writing wouldn't be possible without people like you.  
> EternityCode: Sorry about the typo, I feel awful about it. Alway be naggy, it's what allows me to improve! And whenever the enemy ADC picks Jhin, I smile evilly and lock in Vi for that reason. On an unrelated note, I love your Twisted Fate x Graves fictions, they feel so intense...  
> The_Fox333: Thank you! I actually spent an embarrassing amount of time finding this stuff. What I have so far from outside the lore comes from special interactions, I like to watch those whenever a new champion is released. Some of them are funny, others, like the ones I found for Vi, are very creepy.  
> Zarg0n: Thank you for your feedback, I will watch myself closely to make sure I keep on track. But a few things just to respond to your points: You are right about Vi being smart and having a quick wit, but talking your way out of a streetlight and into a party are two very different things. I have been neglecting that part of her though, and I will try and incorporate it. Piltover and Zaun interact all the time! They are right on top of each other, literally. Piltover has a bunch of crevices running through it, deep underground. Zaun is in those crevices. As such, problems with Zaun directly effect Piltover, and Camille has been shown to go there before in her comic and short stories.
> 
> 08/27/2017
> 
> We hit 1500 hits while I was away! Thank you!


	15. Where There's Smoke...

Caitlyn's nose burns with the smell of smoke and flame, the breathe knocked out of her lungs by the force of Vi's departure. Around her, she hears the sounds of dry coughing, but no one has enough awareness to scream. Spots dance around her vision, and the world swims in the telltale signs of a concussion. Something is pinning her legs down, but they still retain feeling, and her toes are responsive to her commands. Probably the table, then.

Her keen ears had picked up the sound of giggles behind the walls, footsteps where there had been none previously. She was so wrapped up in her tale, that she had not reacted until it was too late. 

Unbidden, the last memory she had of this incident rushes forward. Vi's body streaking into the air, jumping so much further and faster than anybody else could hope to accomplish. From what Caitlyn can see from her admittedly limited viewpoint, her partner must have succeeded. The only damage to the building seems to have been done by her, and only to her immediate surroundings.

How much damage had been done to Vi?

Heimerdinger's words flash in her brain, and Caitlyn is certain that Vi is, at least, alive. Now if only she could get this accursed table off of her.

In her normal state, she would be more than strong enough to relocate it, but Caitlyn can feel the weakness permeating her muscles, and it she is sure that any attempt to life the oppresive weight off her chest would only cause more damage. So she is’t going anywhere, Fine. That didn't mean she would stop being useful.

Piltover held the record for the lowest crime rate in Valoran, and it was only improving. This was not a random act. The obvious conclusion was that someone had wanted to off Caitlyn for the information she possessed. However, Vi was the only one who knew the location for the meeting.

It was entirely probable that all of her partner's haunts were under surveillance, but Caitlyn had already scanned the perimeter before hand, and nothing escaped her trained eyes. There where no bugs, and no signs of magic. One of the patrons could have sent a signal to an ally, except one glance cleared the nearly empty bar of suspects. Yordles were strongley against violence, and the old couple had not even glanced their way. The safeguards in place at the party prevented a scrying charm from being placed. As far as she knew, there was only one mage capable of casting a scrying spell remotely, and he would have to be suicidal to come here. Explosions had never been his style, anyway.

The only conclusion was that Vi had a tail. Luckily, everyone has been too far away to overhear. Caitlyn had picked this table for that very reason, secluded saftley in the corner.

Who would have had the motivation to tail Vi, and now of all times? Everyone who knew about Caitlyn's research was immediately suspect. There was only one person who fit that bill, yet Caitlyn was forced to discard her. No intelligence agent working "for the good" of Piltover would cause such a scene with the Demacians present. An assassination attempt, if Ferros was desperate enough, would have been handled neatly and quietly. This had been the opposite.

Someone had followed Vi, but not on Ferros' orders. This had been a signal, not a true attempt on anybody's life. Someone who knew Vi, but not about Caitlyn. An old gang member, perhaps.

Caitlyn would love to say that it would have been impossible for a Zaunite to get past the security barricade, but she is not fond of deluding herself. For the first time, she finds herself cursing her illogical decision to avoid pursuing Vi's gang life. It had never been relevant to the case at hand, and it had seemed the polite thing to do. Now, it is biting her in the butt. This was put a halt to any plans regarding Ferros, but those were meant to be taken slowly, anyway. Caitlyn would have to ask her partner for leads about the identity of the bomber.

Speaking of Vi, where is she? It occurs to her, suddenly, that she has no idea how much time had passed while she was incapacitated. Someone should have freed Caitlyn by now.

As if summoned by the thought, she feels the pressure on her legs ease, but the telltale grunt of exertion informs her that Vi is still elsewhere occupied.

It's Leigh face that hovers above her own. Behind her, the room is empty. Everyone seems to have already been evacuated. But where is Vi?

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

Vi trusts Leigh, and Caitlyn trusts Vi. She forces her brain to slow down.

"Yes, of course. Were there any civilian injuries?"

The conversation feels oddly strained.

"No. You were the only one hurt, thanks to Vi."

"What happened?"

Leigh looks away, just slightly, and Caitlyn knows she's hiding something. Her evaluation of the bartender becomes static again.

"I don't know. You screamed, and then Vi was running, and she grabbed something out of the air. I think it was a bomb. Some sort of energy shield went off, so she wasn't hurt."

"Energy shield?"

"She built it herself. It's the thing on her back. It takes a while to recharge, though, and that bomb thing shorted it. That's the smell."

"Where is she now?"

Leigh bites her lower lip, and Caitlyn notices the smudge in her lipstick.

"She helped with the evacuation effort."

"Where is she now?"

She's looking at her shoes now, but doesn't say anything. Caitlyn can appreciate that. It would be an insult to her intelligence to lie to her, and she is glad her reputation proceeded her.

"I see. Did she specifically request that you not tell me?"

The hesitation is the only answer she needs.

"Have her give me a call if she shows up. I don't have time for this. I need to deal with the media."

She turns on her heal, and is gone with a swish of her skirt, no sign of her dizziness in her stride. Her back is ramrod straight, her hands carefully loosely curled. Her steps are precise and controlled, and people on the street leap out of the way without knowing why. The facade lasts until she reaches the nearest empty alley.

There, autopilot takes over. Caitlyn shucks off her wig, pinches out her contact lenses and moves her gun to the side holster.

Vi's first instinct would be to chase after the bomber. However, her insistence on not involving Caitlyn means it's personal. The gang theory only solidifies this. However, Vi had not brought her gauntlets to the meeting place. She would have to get those eventually.

The car keys are heavy in her pocket, but Vi's mechanical skills are nearly unmatched. The spot where her car was parked is empty.

Someone had wanted to get Vi's attention, and they had succeeded. Vi is going after them alone. The solution to her problem hits her like a bolt of lightning. Vi had left her gauntlets at her house. Sending a silent apology to her partner, she flips on her radio and prepares a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who didn't know, I updated the previous chapters to fit with the Demacian Lore Rework.  
> This chapter was so late because I had to write it twice, I broke my phone and lost the first version, then I was without internet for a month. It has nothing to do with my newfound addiction to comic books. Nothing at all.  
> Thanks for sticking with me for so long! I just missed the year anniversary of this fic.
> 
> Clofix:  
> Thank you, and here's the next chapter!
> 
> Crane_Ichabod:  
> Thank you for your feedback, I'm going to fix that right now. I'm trying to make this a "realistic" as a magical world based off a videogame can be, so that kind of advice is super helpful.
> 
> AliceLeftTheBeach:  
> Thanks for your kind words. They bring a smile to my face.
> 
> Baby Blues:  
> The characterization is one of the things I'm striving to perfect, and it means so much to hear I'm doing it right. I'm falling a bit in love with them, too.
> 
> Vicious:  
> Summer break is exactly what I needed, now I just need to keep procrastinating my back to school shopping.
> 
> Update: September 14th  
> One hundred kudos! Bring it world! I'm putting this on my college application form. Thank you all so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be appreciated. Let me know all of my errors.


End file.
